Old Flames

Chapters 10-18

by Stacey256

 

 

 

 

Disclaimer: The characters and situations of the TV program "Big Valley" are the creations of Four Star/Republic Pictures and have been used without permission.  No copyright infringement is intended by the author.  The ideas expressed in this story are copyrighted to the author.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 10

 

When the children had finished their supper, Samantha and Audra took them upstairs to give them their baths and get them ready for bed.  Peter ushered Barton and Christiana into the sitting room and served drinks.  They were just sitting down to visit when a knock summoned Peter to the front door.  It was Jarrod, of course.  He seemed slightly surprised to see Christiana, but his smile was warm and friendly.  She, too, had been a little disconcerted at the change of events when it was apparent that it was going to be three couples gathered around the dining table.  She certainly hoped that Jarrod didn’t think she was interested in him in that way.

 

Barton, bless his heart, cleared up any misunderstanding there might have been as he talked about “Poor Carlotta.  Unbeknownst to Peter, Samantha got a note from Christiana that the family pictures were ready and, when Christiana came by to drop off the package, invited her for dinner.  In the meantime, Jarrod, you showed up at the bank and managed to wangle yourself a home-cooked meal on your first night back in Frisco.  So instead of four at the table tonight, Carlotta now has six.”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Peter laughed.  “She’s used to it.  She’ll just add some water to the soup and some potatoes to the vegetables so we won’t complain about the small portions of meat.  Of course, we’ll have to flip for dessert.”

 

Jarrod and Christiana both laughed, both now comfortable that their presence here tonight was simply a coincidence . . . no heavy-handed matchmaking attempt on either Peter or Samantha’s part.  A pleasant coincidence, Jarrod thought, but just a coincidence.

 

“So the pictures are ready?” Jarrod smiled at Christiana.  “Mother will be very pleased.  I’m headed back to the ranch at the end of the week, so I’ll be able to take her copies back then.”

 

“Good,” Christiana returned the smile.  “I wasn’t sure when the Frisco Barkleys would make it back to Stockton.  I’m glad your mother won’t have to wait long to see the photographs.  I think she’s really going to like the group portrait of the family as well as a couple of other ones I took around the ranch.”

 

“I’m sure she’s going to be delighted,” his blue eyes twinkled.  “So do we get to see the fruits of your labor?”

 

“After dinner, I think that’s Samantha’s plan.  Something about plying Peter with a good meal so he’s feeling content and maybe he won’t complain so much about all the money she’s going to talk him into spending,” the young woman teased her host.

 

“Jarrod better have a bank draft on him because he’s paying for all the ones of the ranch hands.  Mother was the one that Christiana conned into that one,” Peter prodded.

 

“Conned!” Christiana pretended to be offended.  “It’s just good business.  One plate, multiple prints.  That’s how I maximize my profits.”

 

“A very astute businesswoman,” Jarrod complimented her.

 

She shrugged and smiled, “Just looking for ways to support myself so I can get out and do my landscapes.”

 

“So have you taken many new landscapes?” he pressed.

 

“I spent the better part of a week camping in the redwoods at Redwood Canyon.  I think I got some really good pictures,” she replied eagerly.

 

“Camping?  By yourself?” Jarrod made no attempt to mask his concern.

 

It was Samantha’s voice that answered him, “Yes, Jarrod, by herself.  Christiana is very capable of taking care of herself.”  She and Audra came in shepherding the nightgown-attired children.  Lizzie V. made a beeline for “Me Pappa” and demanded to be picked up.  The boys were on their best behavior for once and quietly went to sit at their father’s feet.  They both knew their mamma’s rule that when there were guests in the sitting room they were to speak only when spoken to.  Tonight they chose to obey the rule which drew them a soft smile and nod from Samantha.

 

“I don’t doubt that at all,” Jarrod said quickly, hoping he wasn’t going to find himself on Christiana’s bad side again.  “I just know that Redwood Canyon is very rough terrain.  And even though it’s not that far from Frisco, it feels very remote when you’re down in that canyon.”

 

“You’ve been there?” Christiana asked.

 

“Of course.  I’m sure you did get some great photographs.  It is a very impressive place,” Jarrod hesitated and then added, “So, did you bring any of your photographs from the canyon?”

 

“No, I haven’t really had time to make any prints yet.  I’ll be working on those this next week.”

 

“You’re going to bring those for us to see, aren’t you,” Samantha encouraged.  “I love your landscapes.  I’m making a long list of the places I want to see just based on your photographs.”

 

“I’ll bring them by soon,” Christiana promised.  Then she smiled at the two little boys, “So, you two, are you going to get your Pappa to tell us a good story tonight?  You know how I like his tales.”

 

“Yes, ma’am.  We’ll get him to tell a good one,” Tom promised.

 

“A cowboy one,” Nicky’s eyes twinkled.

 

“No, a sailor one,” Tom shook his head, “about a far off place.  That’s the kind Miss Christiana likes.”

 

“Oh, I like all of them,” she smiled.  “Seems like the last time that I was here we had a sailor one so let’s have a cowboy one tonight.”

 

Peter grinned and reached down to ruffle first Nicky’s hair and then Tom’s, “Ah, now you’ve put me on the spot.  Uncle Jarrod is here and he’ll know if I don’t tell it right.  Nicky, do you want to sit up here with Lizzie?”

 

“Yes, Pappa,” the younger brother immediately climbed into Peter’s lap.

 

“How about you, little man?” Peter asked his older son.

 

“I’ll sit on the chair arm, all right, Pappa?” Tom carefully crawled onto his usual perch and placed an arm around his father’s shoulder.

 

“That’ll be fine, now which story should I tell?”

 

Tom prompted, “You pick, Pappa.  But make it a new one.”

 

“A new one, huh?  Let me think.  Let’s see, have I ever told you about the first time I was involved with bringing the cattle out of the mountains after an early winter snow?”  When each of his sons shook his head, Peter continued, “Let’s see this was the winter that I was five, so Uncle Nick had just turned eight and Uncle Jarrod was a big boy of, what, 12?”

 

Jarrod nodded, smiling softly.  He remembered that winter storm and the cattle drive very well.  He was keenly curious about his little brother’s recollection of the event.  “Yes, I was pretty much grown, or so I thought.”

 

Tom, however, focused on his pappa’s age, “You was only five and you got to help with a cattle drive?  That’s my age, Pappa.”

 

“I won’t say I helped much but I was there,” Peter glanced over at his wife, who rolled her eyes.  Peter knew full well that he had opened up the door for another series of discussions with Tom about how he should be allowed to do the things that his father had done at his age.  “As I remember it, and Uncle Jarrod can correct me, there had been another gold strike up in the mountains and Father had lost almost all his ranch crew to gold fever.”

 

“Gold fever?” Tom’s forehead wrinkled.

 

“Was they sick, Pappa?” Nicky asked.

 

“Not really sick.  When someone quits his regular job to spend all his time and energy searching for gold, then we say he has gold fever,” their father explained.  “Because they get so caught up with the idea of finding gold and getting rich quick, they sometimes forget the important things in life, like having a home and taking care of their family.”

 

Christiana asked, “Your father was involved in gold mining though, wasn’t he?”

 

“Grandfather Barkley had gold fever?” Tom’s eyes rounded.

 

“No, not gold fever,” Peter replied honestly.  “Grandfather invested in a number of mines but he didn’t actually mine for gold himself.  He did things the smart way; he bought and sold mining claims and was a partner in several large mining syndicates.”

 

Tom frowned, “Syndicates?”

 

“Business partnerships.  Sort of like how Mr. Barton and I are partners on the bank.”

 

Nicky sighed loudly, “Pappa, the cattle.”

 

“Oh, oh, that’s right, we were telling a cowboy story and not a miner’s story,” Peter reached over to tickle his younger son’s ribs.  “Let’s see, I was just saying that your grandfather had lost most of his ranch crew to gold fever and then an early snow fell trapping a bunch of cattle up in the high pastures.  Grandfather knew he had to get those cattle moved to lower pastures if they were going to live through the winter.”

 

“They might die?” Nicky was aghast.

 

“They could have, if Grandfather didn’t get them moved out of the snow.  The snow covers up all the grass and cattle aren’t smart enough to clear it out of the way.  They would starve to death.  Grandfather had to get them into the valley where there isn’t snow, but he didn’t have anybody to help him move them other than Grandmother.”

 

“Grandmother!?” Nicky was shocked; grandmothers didn’t herd cattle.

 

“That’s right.  Grandmother,” his pappa nodded his head firmly.  “When I was a little boy, your grandmother had to help around the ranch a lot.  She could move a herd of cattle just as well as any man.”  Peter didn’t notice how his wife pressed her lips together, but Jarrod saw the change in her expression and briefly wondered if this was one of those times that Samantha was feeling a little intimidated by Mother.  Peter’s voice shifted his attention, “I can remember listening to your grandparents talking about what to do.  Grandfather said he was going to take Uncle Jarrod.  Mother wanted to go with them but, for some reason, Mr. Silas wasn’t there to take care of Uncle Nick and me.”

 

“Silas had gone to San Francisco to see his sister, Miss Jane.  I think she was sick,” Jarrod recalled.

 

“Silas had a sister in San Francisco?” Peter turned toward his older brother.  “I didn’t realize that.”

 

“She and Silas apparently made it north on the Underground Railroad together and found work with the Hamblins in Philadelphia.  Mr. Hamblin caught a little case of the gold fever himself and came west to San Francisco,” Jarrod explained.  “Silas and Miss Jane came with him, but, unfortunately, Mr. Hamblin wasn’t very lucky in his ventures.  Father met him and he mentioned that he was going to have to let his servants go.  Father offered them both jobs but Miss Jane loved the ocean, she wanted to stay in San Francisco and found a position with another family here.  But, she apparently got sick shortly afterwards.  Silas went back a number of times to help take care of her.  She passed away when you were pretty little.  Mother and Father were the only ones who ever met her.  I’m sure that’s why you don’t remember her.”

 

“Underground Railroad?” Tom looked over at his uncle.  He knew about railroad tunnels but couldn’t imagine a railroad that ran under the ground.

 

“Um, the Underground Railroad was a figure of speech that we used to describe the way that slaves escaped to the North,” his uncle tried to explain.

 

“Slaves?” the little boy was getting more confused.

 

But all the questions were exasperating Nicky, “Tom, we’re talking about cattle.”

 

The younger brother’s single-mindedness brought a round of smothered chuckles from the adults.  “It’s all right, Tom, the Underground Railroad is a subject that’ll take a lot more time than we have during our nightly story time.  We’ll talk about it this Sunday when I take you boys for a walk,” Peter promised his son.  “Now, let’s see where was I on the story.”

 

“Grandfather needed help moving cattle,” Nicky said quickly.

 

“Oh, that’s right,” his father teased gently.  “So Grandfather and Grandmother were trying to figure out what they were going to do.  Grandfather didn’t think that just he and Uncle Jarrod could move the herd.  Grandmother wanted to go.  Grandfather said something about leaving Uncle Nick to look after me, and Grandmother just looked at him like he was crazy.  Grandfather said maybe she could stay home with me and he could take Uncle Nick with him, that for an 8-year-old Nick was a pretty good little hand.  But Grandmother was worried about Uncle Nick going, that he was so little.  She was the one who decided that we would all go.  That I would ride double with her and that Uncle Nick and Uncle Jarrod would each ride their own horses and help with herding the cattle.

 

“We rode out early in the morning.  I remember it was cold enough that I could see my breath but I was sitting in front of your grandmother and she had her arms wrapped around me to keep me warm.  We made good time and found the herd pretty quickly and were able to get them rounded up that day.  The snow wasn’t too bad, the horses and cattle moved through it pretty easily.  But then it got dark and we had to make camp for the night.  It was cold, I remember, but Grandfather built a good campfire and we all huddled around it.  I fell asleep curled up on your grandmother’s lap.  The next morning, however, it started snowing just as we were saddling up.  It kept getting heavier and heavier, harder and harder to see, the snow was getting so deep that the cows were stumbling . . . even the horses were starting to struggle.  Grandfather rode over to Grandmother and told her that he thought that she should take Uncle Nick and me back to the ranch, that he and Uncle Jarrod would see to the herd.  But Grandmother refused to go.  We tried to keep the cattle moving but about midafternoon we just had to stop.  The snow was just too deep.”

 

“Grandfather found a place among some boulders to set up a camp.  He and Uncle Jarrod cut down a bunch of pine branches to lay over the tops of the boulders to keep the snow off of us.  Grandmother set me and Uncle Nick in there and told us not to move.  She started the fire and then started heating some water to make us all something hot to drink while Grandfather and Uncle Jarrod got our horses all under shelter and then started bringing our gear into our little makeshift shelter.  Once they got everything settled, Grandmother made us all drink some broth she had made and fed us some of the meat and bread she had packed for us.  We spent all that afternoon watching the snow fall.  Do you remember how Father told us story after story about how things were when he and Mother first came to the valley, Jarrod?”

 

Jarrod nodded, smiling gently, “He told dozens of them that day.  I think they were concerned about keeping three active boys occupied in that small space.”

 

“Do you remember the stories, Pappa?” Tom asked eagerly.  “Can you tell them to us?”

 

Peter grinned down at the boy, “I remember some of them, but I bet Uncle Jarrod remembers even more.  We’ll see if we can’t get him to tell us some sometime.”

 

“Would you, Uncle Jarrod, please?”

 

“Sure, sometime when you’re at the ranch we’ll have a big story-telling day.  Uncle Nick will remember some, too, I bet,” his uncle promised.

 

“And Uncle Heath?”

 

Jarrod’s eyes met Peter’s but the younger brother just smiled and told his son, “I’m sure that Uncle Heath will be able to add some very good stories of his own.  Now, do you want me to finish this story or not?”

 

“Yes, yes, finish, Pappa, finish,” Nicky said eagerly.  “Did cattle get home?”

 

Jarrod laughed softly, “You are certainly your Uncle Nick’s nephew, worried about the cattle and not the people.”

 

Nicky frowned at his uncle, “Cattle ’portant, Uncle Jarrod.”

 

“That’s very true, Nicky,” Peter reached around to pat his son’s leg.  “That’s just what your grandfather thought.  That night, it was even colder. Grandmother and Grandfather used every saddle blanket under us and every blanket over us.  I remember that Grandmother made me sleep in the middle between Uncle Nick and Uncle Jarrod.  Grandmother was beside Uncle Nick and Grandfather was next to Uncle Jarrod.  I don’t know if your grandmother and grandfather slept at all that night.  They were worried about keeping the fire going and being sure we three boys didn’t get frostbite.”

 

“Frostbite, Pappa?” Tom had to ask.

 

For little boys who had only lived in New Orleans and San Francisco, frostbite was an unknown concept.  Peter caught his wife’s raised eyebrow.  He needed to get this story finished.  It was bedtime.  “Frostbite just means your fingers and toes get real, real cold.  The next morning, Grandmother made us drink some more hot broth and eat the last of the food that she had brought.  She and Grandfather talked about what they were going to do.  Grandfather thought that, if it didn’t snow anymore, we might be able to get the cattle down to the valley before nightfall.  Grandfather thought it would be best that Grandmother, Uncle Nick, and I would help until noon and then, if it didn’t look as if they’d be able to get the cattle down to the valley by nightfall, Grandmother would take me and Uncle Nick home and Grandfather and Uncle Jarrod would stay with the herd.”

 

“Is that what happened, Pappa?” Nicky’s eyes were round.

 

“Nope.  Your grandmother said she was not splitting the family up.  We would all either stay with the cattle or we all would go home.  Then your grandmother asked your grandfather for the bottle of whisky that he always carried.  She took a sip of it and then handed it to Uncle Jarrod and told him to take a couple of sips.  Grandfather started to object and she told him that she wanted to be sure that our blood was warmed up.  Uncle Jarrod did as he was told and then she handed the bottle to Uncle Nick and told him to do the same.  When she took the bottle and told me to take a sip, Grandfather couldn’t believe it.”

 

“You got to drink whisky and you was only five, Pappa?” Tom’s mouth hung open.

 

Peter ignored his wife’s glare, “It was a very special circumstance.  Then we all mounted up and started moving the cattle.  The first few hours were hard but then, suddenly, we began to move out of the heavy snow.  By noon, we were moving through just a few inches.  We got all the cattle out of the mountains and into the valley before dark that day.  And that was the first time I got to help move cattle.”

 

“Whew,” Nicky sighed loudly, “Thank goodness, Pappa.”

 

“Wow, Pappa, that was a good story.  And you was just my age,” Tom added.

 

“I’m glad you liked it, Tom,” Peter grinned at his eldest.  “All right, little ones, it’s time to go to bed.  If our guests will excuse us for a few minutes, Mamma and I will go listen to bedtime prayers and get you three tucked in.  Then we adults can all enjoy one of Carlotta’s wonderful meals.”

 

Nicky and Tom both clambered down from their perches and Peter shifted a drowsy Lizzie to his shoulder and stood.  He started to herd the boys upstairs when Nicky grabbed Tom’s hand and stood on tiptoe to whisper in his brother’s ear.  Tom turned back to look at his Uncle Jarrod but didn’t seem sure of what he wanted to say.

 

Uncle Jarrod saved him, “Hey, are you two going to bed without playing our guessing game?”

 

“Oh, Jarrod,” Samantha started, but Nicky interrupted, “No, we wanna play, Uncle Jarrod.”

 

Jarrod ignored Samantha’s exasperated look, “All right, in which pocket have I hidden three shiny quarters?”

 

The two little boys studied their uncle and there were several whispered conversations.  Finally, Tom walked over and pointed to Jarrod’s vest pocket.  Jarrod managed a surprised look as he fished out three coins.  “Now, how do you boys do that?  You guess right every time,” he said as he handed one quarter to Nicky and two to Tom.  “Tom, be sure to put one of those in Lizzie V.’s bank.”

 

“I will, Uncle Jarrod,” the older brother promised.

 

“We’re good guessers, ain’t we, Uncle Jarrod,” Nicky boasted as he held his quarter up.

 

“Yes, you are,” his uncle agreed as he reached down to ruffle the dark locks.  “Now I think your mamma wants you to head on up to bed.  Sweet dreams.”

 

Aunt Audra and Miss Christiana both received goodnight kisses from all three children, and Lizzie V. reached over to give Uncle Jarrod a special hug.  After the children were headed up the stairs, Christiana gently prodded Jarrod, “That was lucky that Tom and Nicky guessed the right pocket.”

 

Barton snorted and laughed, “Lucky nothing.  Uncle Jarrod puts three shiny quarters in every pocket.  He can’t stand the idea of disappointing those two.”

 

“I think it’s fine for Tom and Nicky to just think they’re very good guessers,” Jarrod smiled, refusing to be embarrassed for his soft heartedness.

 

As promised, Peter and Samantha were only gone for a few minutes.  When they returned, Samantha was scolding her husband, “I can’t believe you told that story, Peter.  You know how Tom is about picking up on things.  We won’t hear the end of it . . . his pappa got to go on a cattle drive AND got to drink whisky and he was only five!”

 

“It wasn’t really a cattle drive, Sam,” Peter barely held back his laugh.  “We were just moving the cattle out of the high meadows.  The boys wanted a cowboy story and you know how Tom likes stories about when I was his age.  It just seemed like a good one.”

 

“Well, when he comes asking for a shot of whisky you can deal with it,” she said as she ushered her guests into the dining room.

 

Christiana laughed at the image of Tom tossing back a shot of whisky, “Well, Jarrod, did Peter tell the story fairly accurately?”

 

“Very accurately from the perspective of a five-year-old,” Jarrod acknowledged as he held her chair for her and then took the seat next to her.

 

“Did I miss something?” Peter asked as he walked to his end of the table after seating Samantha.

 

“No, not much.  I think Mother and Father were a bit more worried about things then you saw.  I heard them talking the second night about just leaving the herd and getting us boys back down to the valley.  I think they were particularly concerned that they weren’t going to keep us warm enough.  Do you remember Mother ripping blankets into strips that last morning and wrapping them around our feet?”

 

“Hmm, don’t think so.  Do remember Father wrapping a blanket around me and Mother after we mounted up and telling me it was my job to hold it around us.”

 

“Did your mother really have you drink whisky or was that something you made up just to needle Sam?” Christiana pressed.

 

“Of course she did.  I wouldn’t make something like that up,” Peter pretended to be offended.

 

“I’ll have to back him up on this one.  He left out the really funny part, however,” Jarrod’s eyes twinkled.

 

“What was that?” Samantha’s brow wrinkled.

 

“Well, when I took my sips I choked and coughed.  Nick did the same thing.  But when little Pete swallowed his down, nothing happened.  I remember Mother and Father both just staring at him and then them exchanging this funny look.  Father finally said, ‘This one we’re really gonna have to watch.’”

 

The others gathered around the table laughed and Samantha shook her head and rolled her eyes at her husband.  Peter just grinned and shrugged.

 

“Why does that not surprise me,” Samantha sighed softly.  “I don’t know whether I hope my sons have as good a head for spirits as their father or if I prefer that they have no stomach for it whatsoever.”

 

“Sorta like their mother?” Peter teased.

 

“It’s just hard liquor that bothers me; I can handle wine just fine.  I grew up drinking it,” Samantha said with a wrinkle of her nose.  “In fact, I do better with wine than you do.”

 

“Ah, that’s not true,” Peter countered.  “It just gives me a headache if I drink too much.”

 

Jarrod chuckled softly and then changed the conversation, “Say, when I was in Sacramento I ran into an old friend from here who’s stuck out of town for the month.  He offered me his box at the theater here for the performance of Henry V next week.  I’ve heard it’s a good performance.  What do you say we all go next Thursday?”

 

“Oh, Jarrod,” Audra’s blue eyes shone brightly.  “That sounds like so much fun.”

 

“Oh, it does, doesn’t it, Audra,” Samantha agreed.  “

 

Peter shook his head slightly, “Sam, you’re not suppose to be overdoing things.  I’m not sure going out to the symphony and then to a play is a good thing.”

 

“Oh, Peter, we’re just going to the symphony this week and the play is next week.  That’s not too much.  It’s not going to be long before I’m not going to be able to go out at all, I’ll be so fat,” Samantha’s eyes pleaded.  “I’ll just be sitting at both.  It’s not like a dance or a party.  Besides, Audra’s going back to the ranch on that Saturday.  This will be our last chance to go out together.  Let’s go, please.”

 

Peter’s mouth was set in a straight line.  Jarrod thought that perhaps his brother was going to be firm and decline the invitation, but then Peter’s eyes softened and one corner of his mouth twitched.  The younger brother managed a much put-upon sigh, “All right, Sam.  I guess it’ll be all right.  Just be sure you rest in the afternoon.”

 

She waved a dismissive hand, “Of course, I will.  I promise.  Oh, this will be so much fun.  Thanks for thinking of it, Jarrod.”

 

“It just seemed like something we all might enjoy,”

 

“You’ll come, too, won’t you, Christiana?” Samantha turned to her guest.

 

Christiana’s eyes rounded slightly and her mind went blank for a moment.  She hadn’t even considered that she was included in the plans – she was sure that Jarrod intended for this to be a family outing . . . or maybe he had already invited someone else.

 

But the oldest brother just turned toward her and smiled broadly, “Of course, Christiana, we’re expecting you there.”

 

“Well, I have a job out of town,” she hesitated, “but I expect to be back next Thursday evening.  I hate to ask you to hold the seat for me . . . you know how trains are.  I could end up being delayed and not making it at all.”

 

Jarrod smile never wavered, “Well, the seat will be there for you.  If you don’t make it, we’ll understand.  However, if you make it, all the better.”

 

Christiana tried not to read more into his happy smile than just his pleasure that he was going to be with his family, whether she was there or not.  She returned his smile and dipped her head, “Well, I will do my best to be there, I promise.  It does sound like fun.”  Then she turned toward Audra, “But enough about plays, let’s talk about what’s really important.  So how are the wedding plans going, Audra?”

 

Jarrod and Peter both groaned loudly and Barton rolled his eyes but wisely said nothing.  Laughter and conversation began to swirl around the table then.  Samantha’s eyes found Peter’s for a moment; this felt so right.  He nodded, silently agreeing with her.  He could get use to this.

 

 

 

Chapter 11

 

Audra felt her sister-in-law’s arm slip around hers and then a gentle tug.  The soft whisper in her ear was teasing but pointed, “Audra, you don’t have to watch for Barton.  He and Peter will be back just as soon as they get some champagne.  Honestly, girl, you’re wearing his ring.  No one is going to steal him away from you.”

 

“I’m not worried about anyone stealing him away,” Audra hissed back.  “I just want to be sure that he knows that I miss him any time he’s away from me.  If he sees me looking for him, then he’ll know I’m thinking about him.”

 

“Honey, he’s just gone to get some champagne during intermission.  It’s not like he’s on an African expedition,” Samantha rolled her eyes.  “How are you going to stand it when you go back to the ranch at the end of next week?  You’ll be lucky to see him on the weekends.”

 

Audra sighed softly, “I know.  I hate to think about not getting to see him every day, but I guess I have to go home to help Mother plan the wedding.  I’m just going to miss him so much.  It’s just been so wonderful to be able to spend every evening with him, talking about the wedding . . . .”

 

“Kissing,” her sister-in-law teased.

 

“Talking about where we might go on our honeymoon . . . .”

 

“Kissing.”

 

“Talking about where we might like to buy our house . . . .”

 

“Kissing.”

 

Audra gave up trying to ignore Samantha, “All right, so we’ve done some kissing.  It’s not like we’ve done anything close to what you and Peter did before your wedding.”

 

“Shush,” the dark-haired woman whispered.  “I told you that in the strictest of confidence.  Older sister to young sister.  And believe you me that what Peter and I did prays upon his mind.  He frets every evening until you come up to bed.  He keeps thinking he should go down and send Barton home before you two get too ‘involved.’”

 

“We’re not going to do something down in your sitting room,” Audra was askance.

 

“Well, Peter’s having a hard time being the big brother to an all grownup little sister.  He’s just sure that Jarrod wouldn’t like it if he knew how much time you and Barton were spending alone in our sitting room.”

 

Audra sighed, “Goodness, Sam, I promise we’re not doing anything that scandalous.  Besides, Jarrod didn’t breathe a word when Barton and I went off riding together at the ranch and were gone for hours.  Jarrod understands, he knows that Barton and I are engaged and we’re getting married in less than five months.  It’s only natural that we’re going to be spending time alone and that time will include a little physical contact.”

 

“Hmm, physical contact, so that’s how we describe it,” Samantha teased.  “So just what did you and Barton do during that l-o-o-n-n-g-g ride?”

 

“Not that much and quit prying,” Audra whispered back.

 

“Why?  You’re always prying about what Peter and I do,” his sister-in-law shot back.

 

The man’s voice came from behind them, “Audra?”

 

They both turned to face the tall, dark-haired man.  Samantha looked over at her sister-in-law, expecting an introduction, but Audra just looked stunned.

 

The man came closer, his dark eyes gleaming.  He reached out a sure hand to grasp Audra’s gloved hand and raised it to his lips, “I can’t believe it, Audra.  When I came back to California, I thought I might run into Jarrod but never expected to see you.  This is wonderful.”

 

Samantha watched mystified as Audra seemed to struggle to find her voice, but when her sister-in-law finally spoke it was calmly, “Scott, what a surprise.  I guess I never expected to see you in this part of the world.”

 

“Ah, the business climate in California is just too tempting for me, too many good deals to make, too much money to be made.  I couldn’t stay away.  And I’m delighted that I’ve run into you away from Stockton.  I left things poorly; I’d like to make amends,” the man seemed to have forgotten his companion, a striking brunette, tall, slender, with deep brown eyes.  He continued to hold Audra’s hand.

 

“There’s nothing to make amends for, Scott.  I think you left things just fine,” she said levelly as she carefully extracted her hand from his grasp.

 

Before he could answer, his companion pointedly questioned, “Scott?”

 

“Ah, Diana, I’m sorry.  Miss Diana Kirby, this is an old friend, Miss Audra Barkley of Stockton, and . . . ,” the man raised an eyebrow as he glanced toward Samantha.

 

“This is my sister-in-law, Mrs. Samantha Barkley,” Audra supplied.

 

“Sister-in-law?” the man grinned widely.  “Well, things have changed since my visit.  And since you’re at the theater in San Francisco, I’m going to hazard the guess that you are Mrs. Jarrod Barkley.”

 

“Actually,” Samantha said coolly, “I am Mrs. Peter Barkley.  And you are?”

 

Audra finished the introductions, “Samantha, this is Scott Breckenridge.  We met a few years back when Scott came to Stockton on business.  Scott, Samantha and my brother Peter lived in New Orleans until about a year ago when they moved here.  That’s why you didn’t meet them before.”

 

“Well, it is a pleasure to meet you now, Mrs. Barkley,” the man dipped his head at Samantha but his eyes returned immediately to Audra.  “Audra, I really can’t tell you how happy I am to see you.  If I believed in kismet, I would say this was a predestined meeting.  I really would like to talk with you.  Tomorrow, perhaps.  Lunch?”

 

Samantha had to hold back a snort as she watched Mr. Breckenridge’s escort’s eyebrows practically fly off her forehead as she watched her companion for the evening try to make a date with another woman.  Audra, thankfully, had the good grace to quickly shake her head, “That’s not appropriate, Scott.  Really, we have nothing to talk about.  It’s all in the past.”

 

“What do you mean ‘it’s not appropriate’?  I’m only asking for a lunch,” his voice was a little forceful.

 

Samantha’s eyes narrowed and she instinctively shifted closer to Audra to protect her, but her sister-in-law was calm, “Scott, I’m engaged to be married.  It would not be appropriate for me to have lunch with you.  Please just let it go.”

 

The man’s jaw dropped, “Engaged?  You’re getting married?”

 

“Yes, Scott,” a soft laugh lightened Audra’s tone, “I’m getting married.  Don’t look so shocked.  Most people do get married, you know.”

 

The dark-haired man recovered and said sharply, “Of course, I see.  Well, I guess I should extend my best wishes to you.”

 

“Thank you,” Audra smiled sweetly.

 

Samantha decided to take control now, “Audra, I hate to take you away from your friend, but I really am getting a little tired from all this standing.  Do you mind if we go back to our seats and just wait on Peter and Barton there?”

 

“Of course, Sam,” her sister-in-law tucked an arm around Samantha’s.  “Scott, it was good to see you again.  I’m glad all is going well for you.  Miss Kirby, it was a pleasure to meet you.  I hope you both enjoy the rest of the symphony.  Come on, Sam, let’s get you settled.”

 

With that, the two women turned and walked away.  Audra never looked back.

 

When Peter and Barton arrived with the champagne, neither Samantha nor Audra mentioned the encounter.  Audra was highly relieved that Scott did not seek her out again at the end of the symphony, and Samantha just made idle conversation on the way home in the hack.  Peter insisted that Samantha needed to go directly to bed, so Audra and Barton made themselves comfortable in the sitting room in front of the fireplace.  It took Audra several moments before she worked up the courage to tell Barton about what had happened.  She was so thankful that she had already told Barton about Scott, about the serious mistake she had almost made, offering to go away with Scott if he would extend the mortgages on their neighbors’ ranches during the terrible drought they had had a few years back.  Barton had been surprised at her actions; she had seen his consternation as he contemplated what she had almost done . . . how she had almost ruined her life.  She had waited silently, watching his face, wondering if he was going to understand, if he was still going to want her in his life.  She had known it was a gamble, telling him, she could have lost him, but she also instinctively knew that there could be no secrets between them.  His eyes had finally softened and he had reached a hand out to gently stroke her cheek.  “Well, I’m glad it didn’t work out, otherwise you wouldn’t have been here for me to fall in love with,” he had bent and gently brushed her cheek with a kiss.  But then he had tapped the end of her nose with a finger, “But the next time you have such altruistic inclinations, let’s talk about them before you start making deals.”

 

Now she told him that Scott Breckenridge had seen her this evening, that he had wanted to have lunch with her tomorrow, and that she had told him it wasn’t appropriate since she was engaged to be married.

 

Barton had nodded his head and murmured, “Well, hopefully that’ll put an end to him wanting to see you.”

 

“I think so,” she settled against him, enjoying how his arms just fit around her so naturally.

 

He started to respond when a loud voice upstairs made them both jump, “SHE DID WHAT!”

 

“Audra, did Peter know about you and Breckenridge?” Barton looked over at her in concern.

 

“I’ve never told him,” she looked toward the doorway.  “I did tell Sam about it all.”

 

“I would imagine that she just told your brother what happened during your first encounter with Breckenridge,” he sighed softly.

 

At that moment, Peter stormed into the room, his blue eyes blazing, “Young lady, just what did you think you were doing?!”

 

“I was trying to help our neighbors, Peter,” Audra started.

 

“And damn near ruined your life,” he continued to shout.

 

Audra silently regarded her brother for a moment, thinking that Peter could certainly yell just as loud as Nick.  She took a deep breath, “I know, Peter, it was a mistake.  But nothing really happened.”

 

“Except you could have destroyed your reputation.  Well, I sure as hell hope that Jarrod turned you over his knee and let you know just what a mistake you had made,” Peter shook his finger at her.

 

“He did no such thing,” she rose to her feet now thoroughly indignant.  “He and I had a long talk about what the consequences could have been and how I needed to be less like Nick in my impetuousness.  But he certainly did not spank me.”

 

“Well, he should have!” Peter’s eyes continued to burn brightly.  “Good Lord, Audra, what a colossal bit of impetuousness that was.  Do you realize that you would have never been able to go back to the valley?  Do you realize what that would have done to Mother?”

 

“Yes, Peter,” his little sister sighed.  “That has all been pointed out to me by all my brothers at one time or another.  But I didn’t do it and it’s all behind us.”

 

Peter’s eyes flickered over to his partner’s face, “Barton know about this?”

 

“Yes, I do,” Barton replied calmly.  “Audra told me about this and several of her other escapades even before we were engaged.”

 

Peter paled, “Other escapades?”

 

“Nothing quite as scandalous, but there were a few intriguing little episodes that made me realize what a spirited young lady I was falling in love with,” he smiled over at his beloved who blushed prettily.

 

Peter was unfazed by all the endearing looks and delicate blushes, “Well, damn it, Barton, I sure as hell hope you can keep her under control.  You know she’s gonna be a handful.”

 

“Peter!” his sister started, but Barton smoothly interceded, “Peter, Audra is a grown woman.  She’ll be my wife, my partner in life, not my child to control.”

 

Peter stared at them both for a moment and then scoffed, “Yeah.  We’ll talk about this again in a couple of years.”  He turned on his heel and stalked out of the room.

 

Audra turned to look at her fiancé, “That was a wonderful thing to say, Barton.  I love you.”

 

“I love you, too, Audra,” he bent down to kiss her, all the while thinking about Peter’s warning.  Life was going to be interesting.

 

 

 

Chapter 12

 

Audra had completely dismissed the chance meeting with Scott Breckenridge, so the next afternoon she was stunned when Samantha’s maid came into the back sitting room and announced that there was a Mr. Breckenridge at the door wanting to see Miss Audra.  Audra and Samantha exchanged a startled look over the children’s heads.

 

“Audra,” Samantha offered, “if you want, I’ll go tell him you’re not interested in seeing him.”

 

“No, that’s all right, I’ll go talk with him.”

 

“Do you want me to go with you?”

 

“No, no, I can handle it.  Really.  Scott’s at least a gentleman on some level.  He’ll leave if I ask him to,” the younger woman replied.

 

“If?” Samantha’s eyes rounded.

 

“When,” Audra corrected herself firmly.

 

Squaring her shoulders, Audra walked to the front of the house.  Scott was standing just inside the front entry, holding his hat and a large bouquet of flowers.  She smiled softly, flowers in January, a nice touch.  “Hello, Scott,” was all she said.

 

“Audra,” his dark eyes were shining and his smile teasing.  “You look even more lovely today.  I’d forgotten how absolutely breath-taking you are.”

 

“Thank you for the compliment, Scott,” she inclined her head slightly but continued to study his face.  “How did you find me?”

 

“It wasn’t difficult,” he was being his most charming.  “Your older brother is well known in business circles here in San Francisco.  I made the assumption that you were staying with him while you were visiting here.”

 

“Good assumption,” she acknowledged.

 

“These are for you,” he extended the bouquet toward her.  “A peace offering.”

 

She did not reach to take the flowers from him, “There’s no need, Scott.  I told you before.  You left things fine.  You extended the mortgages and you didn’t force me to go with you.  Everything turned out fine.”

 

“But I lost you, Audra,” Scott still held the bouquet out.  “I was such a fool.”

 

“Scott, please, stop.”

 

“Audra,” he stepped closer.  “I made such a mistake, not valuing you the way I should have, not admitting how much you meant to me.”

 

Her instinct was to step back but she didn’t want him to think that he intimidated her, so she held her ground, “Scott, you really didn’t want me.  You know that.”

 

“Oh, yes, I did, Audra.  I just didn’t realize how much.  I don’t think I realized how much I had lost until months later.  I was in Venice and there were these two gondoliers squabbling over a fare.  I immediately thought of how you would have enjoyed the scene, how wonderful your laugh would have been.  I realized then what I had left behind in Stockton . . . someone who understood me, who enjoyed what I enjoyed, who would have shared it all with me if I hadn’t been such a fool.”

 

“Scott, you know you didn’t really want to share your life with me.”

 

“That’s not true.  I just wasn’t ready to admit it; I am now.  Audra, I want you in my life, on your terms.”

 

“Scott, I’m engaged; I’m getting married in just a few months.”

 

“Do you love him?” he demanded.

 

“Yes,” she was indignant.  “Of course I do.  I love him with all my heart.”

 

“You loved me,” Scott’s voice was firm.

 

She looked at him for a moment and then she slowly shook her head, “No, I didn’t.”

 

“That’s not true.  I felt it; you felt it.  We are two of a kind; what we have is special.  You told me that you loved me.”

 

“I thought I did love you, Scott, but now I know it wasn’t love.”

 

“Oh, Audra, listen to yourself.  You said you loved me and now you say it wasn’t love.  You say you love him now but how do you know that you’re not going to change your mind about him?  How do you know it wasn’t really love that we felt?”

 

There might have been a time that Audra would have been shaken by Scott’s suggestion, but she had grown so much in the last year.  With a calm assurance, she smiled and shook her head, “I know I’m not going to change my mind, Scott.  What I feel for Barton is true love.  I think that what I felt for you was an infatuation.  You were so different, so exciting, I just set my cap for you.”

 

“Audra, you know you don’t want to stay here in San Francisco; you know you want to see the world.  You were thrilled at the idea of travelling.  You can do that with me.”

 

“I still want to see things and I’m certain that at some point Barton and I will take our family to Europe.  That’s the kind of travel I’m looking forward to.”

 

He tried a different tack, “I noticed last night that you weren’t wearing the necklace I gave you.  It would have looked beautiful with that dress.  Why weren’t you wearing it?”

 

“Oh, Scott, I donated that necklace to a charity auction long ago.  I couldn’t wear it any more; donating it to a charity just seemed like the best thing.  I knew you would understand.”

 

“But you said you loved pearls,” he frowned deeply, clearly confused.

 

“I do,” she smiled.  “And I fully expect that my husband will give me pearls on our wedding day.”

 

He sighed and searched her face once again, “You’re not going to change your mind.”

 

“No, I’m not.  Scott, I don’t love you and you really don’t love me.  My mother told me long ago that you’re not the marrying kind.  One woman isn’t enough for you; the need for conquest is too strong.  She’s right, you know.  The only reason you’re interested in me right now is because I’m not available.”

 

He shook his head and he truly sounded sad when he whispered, “That’s not true, Audra.  You are the one woman I want.”

 

She would have tried again to explain, but Samantha’s voice distracted her, “Audra, I’m sorry to intrude, but I was really wondering if you would look after the boys while I focus on Lizzie V. for a bit.”

 

“Of course I will, Sam.  Scott, if you’ll please pardon me, I’m going to have to ask you to leave so that I can help Sam with the children.  I hope your stay in San Francisco is a nice one and that your business dealings go as you hope.  Good bye.”

 

The man was frozen for a moment as he realized that he, Scott Breckenridge, the Midas Man, was being dismissed by this young woman.  He shook his head slightly and again extended the flowers toward her.

 

“No, thank you, Scott, but perhaps Miss Kirby would like them.  I need to get the boys’ jackets, please let yourself out,” she smiled softly and turned and walked away.

 

Samantha watched as the handsome man just stared at her sister-in-law’s retreating back.  “Mr. Breckenridge, may I see you to the door?”

 

“No, I’ll do as Audra asked and let myself out.  Good day, Mrs. Barkley,” the man’s mouth twisted in disappointment but he walked to the door and opened it without hesitation.  Unlike Audra, however, he looked back once more at the woman just as she disappeared out of sight on the second floor.  Then he stepped through the door, pulling it closed behind him.

 

Samantha waited patiently until Audra returned downstairs carrying the two jackets.  “So where’s the necklace?” her green eyes sparkling.

 

“Eavesdropper,” Audra tried to shame her.

 

“Well?”

 

Audra snickered, “At home.  You’re going to have to help me find a charity auction that I can anonymously donate it to.”

 

“Audra,” Samantha pretended to scold but then broke into a laugh.  “You are something else, you know it?”

 

“Glad you think so . . . but let’s keep this our secret, all right?”

 

“Sure, little sister.”

 

* * * * * * * *

 

That evening Barton came to dinner just as he had virtually every evening since Audra had been in San Francisco.  He was quieter than usual; Audra thought it might be something at the bank that was bothering him, some business deal.  She knew that Samantha had to often deal with Peter bringing work problems home.  Peter, however, was relaxed and jovial this evening, teasing Samantha about her expanding waistline.  They had all gone into the billiards room for a time.  She and Samantha talked about their plans for the next day, and Peter trounced Barton in a game of pool.  Peter had caught Samantha yawning and had immediately insisted that they needed to go on to bed.  Audra and Barton followed them out of the billiards room and then migrated to the sitting room . . . their usual place for their late evening talks.

 

This evening, however, Barton didn’t take her into his arms as soon as they heard Peter and Samantha’s door close.  Instead, he stood beside the fireplace, punching the logs with the poker.  She finally asked, “Barton, what’s wrong?”

 

“Peter doesn’t know it, but Scott Breckenridge was by the bank today, checking on him,” he hesitated and then added, “checking on you.”

 

She was thoroughly irritated with Scott, “Really?  I wondered how he found out where Peter lived.  What did you say to him?”

 

“Neither Peter nor I were at the bank when he came in.  He talked with Mrs. Henderson . . . he apparently said something about stopping by the house to see you and Samantha and she told him Peter’s address,” Barton’s voice was carefully modulated.  “She mentioned it to me and I told her that I would let Peter know . . . but I haven’t.  So he was here?”

 

“Yes, he came by this afternoon.  I was going to tell you but I didn’t want to say anything in front of Peter.  You know how he can overreact.”

 

“Does he have a reason to overreact?”

 

She was thoroughly confused by Barton’s cool tone, “What?”

 

“Why was Breckenridge here, Audra?” he looked deep into her eyes.

 

For a moment she looked away as she tried to think how best to answer the question.  She had no idea how her hesitation tore at Barton’s soul.  Finally, she decided honesty, short and sweet, was the best approach.  “He came here to try to woo me back,” she said.

 

Barton stepped away from her and placed his hands on his hips, “I’ll warn you now, I’m not giving you up without a fight.”

 

She shook her head and smiled at him so gently, “Barton, please, don’t.”

 

His heart stopped.  He couldn’t believe she was telling him this, that she didn’t want him to fight for her, that in the space of a day he had lost the woman he loved to a man from her past.  She must have seen the despair in his eyes because she walked to him and placed her hands on his forearms, “Barton, darling, you don’t have to fight for me.  I’m yours.  I told Scott that I loved you, that I was marrying you, and I sent him away.  I was very blunt; he won’t be back.”

 

“Oh,” he drew the word out as the knowledge that his world was not crumbling settled around him.  “I see.”

 

She couldn’t help but tease him a little, “And, so, if you’re thinking about trying to get out of this engagement just because an old beau showed up, I must warn you I have five brothers and they’re all pretty tough and they all know how to use a shotgun.”

 

He gave a shaky laugh and slowly let his hands move to grasp her upper arms.  “No, I’m not trying to get out of our engagement.  I was afraid that you were.”

 

“Oh, heavens, Barton, why would I try to get out of my engagement to the man that I love,” she found this all very ridiculous.  “My whole future is tied to yours.”

 

Now that he knew he wasn’t losing her . . . that she had not been swept off her feet once again by Scott Breckenridge . . . he could dare to question, “Audra, are you sure?  I mean Breckenridge can give you much more than I can.”

 

She laughed softly, “No, he can’t.”

 

“Yes, he can, darling,” he hated to admit this, but he had to be honest with her.  “He is much wealthier than I will ever be.  Oh, I’m certain that I can give you a comfortable lifestyle, but it would never be anything like what he could give you.  Our life will be here in San Francisco.  With him, you could travel the world in the finest style.”

 

Audra shook her head, still amazed at how silly men could be, “Funny, Scott said the same thing, but I told him that I was sure that one day you and I would plan a holiday and take our children to Europe.  That’s the travel I was looking forward to.”

 

“That’s a promise,” Barton said instantly, but still he was uneasy.  “Audra, he really would be able to give you so much more, jewels and lavish homes, the very best of everything.”

 

She lifted her hands to his face and gently cupped it, “He can’t give me the most important thing, Barton.  He can’t give me what you’ve already given me.  He can’t give me his heart.  I already have yours and that’s what’s most important to me.”

 

“Oh, Audra,” he breathed the words out in wonder.  She was his, truly his.  She wasn’t going anywhere.  Leaning down, he captured her lips with his.  His arms banded her and he held her to him as tightly as he dared.  All his worries slipped away.

 

 

 

Chapter 13

 

Christiana Wilson took a deep calming breath and ran a hand over her hair to make sure it wasn’t flying every which way.  She had had to hurry so much to make it before curtain time that she wasn’t sure she’d even gotten all her clothes on.  She tried to do a mental inventory but her mind kept jumping around as she hurried down the street toward the theater.  She couldn’t remember the last time that she had done something so “social.”  The closest thing was the New Year’s dance at the Barkleys’, but tonight was different from a community dance.  Tonight, she was joining a group of friends for an outing to the theater.  The last time she had done such a thing must have been long before Allen died.  All the years that he had been ill they had had to avoid public gatherings.  On his good days he would try to work, try to teach her all he knew of photography.  They might go for walks in solitary places.  On his bad days, she had spent long hours in their darken apartment.  And since his death, she had had neither the time nor the inclination nor, she admitted to herself, the friends to do such a thing with.

 

As she reached the block where the theater was, her step slowed slightly.  She didn’t realize it, but she had begun to chew her lower lip a little.  She hadn’t thought about the logistics of finding the box that held the Barkleys.  It wasn’t their box so she couldn’t ask the usher to see her to the Barkley box.  No, the box belonged to some friend of Jarrod’s, some friend whose name she didn’t know.  The magnitude of her predicament almost stopped her forward momentum; for a moment she considered turning around and going back to her little apartment above her shop.  Perhaps she shouldn’t be here; perhaps they really hadn’t expected her to come so that’s why they hadn’t discussed how she was to find them at the theater.  She had almost stopped when a voice saved her.

 

“There she is.”

 

She knew the voice, it was deep and smooth with a subtle strength.  Her eyes turned and she saw him . . . them.  The two brothers standing side by side, each holding a cigar, identical blue eyes but there the resemblance ended.  She knew now that the younger took after their father’s side of the family with the blond hair and fairer skin while the older, except for his brilliant blue eyes, favored their mother’s side. And it was his voice that she had recognized immediately and it was his smile that dissolved her anxieties.  She had no idea how her face had lit up; she only knew that his smile had widened when their eyes met.  She knew instinctively that she was wanted here, that they were waiting for her.

 

“Hey, Christiana,” Peter reached out to take her hand and leaned over to place a gentle kiss on her cheek.  “Beginning to wonder if the train stalled on the tracks.”

 

“No,” she smiled up at him but her eyes slid back to Jarrod’s face, to the beautiful smile he was giving her.  “But it did run late.  I’ve been hurrying ever since I got off the train.  I’m sorry I kept you both waiting.”

 

“No problem,” Jarrod winked at her.  “It gave us a chance to have a smoke before we went into the theater.”

 

“Don’t let Pappy kid you, Christiana.  He’s been tapping his foot and trying to look both ways at once, afraid we were going to miss you,” Peter tucked her hand into the crook of his arm.  “We sent Sam, Audra and Barton on up to the box.”

 

“I’m sorry you had to wait outside for me,” she knew that San Francisco wasn’t that cold even in January but it was damp out.  “Just as I was getting here I realized that I didn’t have a clue where you would be sitting.”

 

Peter snorted, “Don’t worry, Jarrod wasn’t about to leave a damsel in distress.  He kept saying that one of us should have picked you up at your shop, but Sam kept telling him that you knew you would be cutting it close getting here in time for the first act and that you were perfectly capable of finding your way to the theater on your own.”

 

Jarrod quickly added, “I wasn’t saying she wasn’t capable of getting here on her own, I just thought it was rather rude to invite someone and then not at least make arrangements for her to get here safely.”

 

Christiana tried to sound irritated about the fuss but she was secretly pleased.  It had been so long since anyone had been truly concerned about her welfare.  “Well, somehow this member of the weaker sex managed to find her way across town all on her own,” she said in her best vapory voice as Peter and Jarrod guided her up the stairs.

 

The two men guffawed and Peter added, “Ah, Christiana, both of us have learned that there’s nothing weak about the women in our lives . . . you included.”

 

“I assure you that my motives were simply those of a gentleman,” Jarrod added.  “That’s the way our mother raised us and you’ve met our mother and know how she would react if she found out that we didn’t act appropriately.”

 

She teased back, “Well, I certainly wouldn’t want you to get in trouble with your mother for inappropriate behavior.”

 

“We appreciate that,” Peter smiled and winked at Jarrod.  “Her wooden spoon is a serious deterrent to inappropriate behavior.”

 

They were all three laughing as they stepped into the beautifully appointed box.  Barton rose to greet her, placing a kiss on her cheek just as Peter had.  She bent down to press her cheek against first Audra’s cheek and then Samantha’s.  Jarrod seated her in the chair just to Samantha’s right and sat down in the chair behind and slightly to her left.  They were just in time as the house lights were being turned down and, in just a few minutes, the curtain was raised.  With another deep calming breath, Christiana leaned back into the chair, unaccountably happy.  The first act flew by.  At its conclusion, the group rose and stepped out of the box to stretch and visit.  Christiana tried hard not to compare her simple blouse and skirt with Audra’s elegant gown.  Even Samantha’s gown, carefully styled and pleated to try to hide her “condition” was lovely.  For the past few years, Christiana had concentrated on spending her limited “clothing funds” on outfits that befitted a businesswoman.  There had been no need (and truthfully no money) for more elaborate outfits.  None of the others, however, seemed concerned about what she was wearing.  There was just a lot of laughing and teasing back and forth and she was soon swept up into the banter.

 

A woman’s voice halted their conversation, “Jarrod Barkley, what a wonderful surprise.”

 

They all turned to see a striking, dark-haired woman with an equally good-looking man make their way down the narrow hallway.  The woman’s eyes were riveted on Jarrod, and she walked directly to him, taking his hands into hers and rising up on her tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek and then press her cheek against his for a very long moment.  Christiana saw Samantha and Audra exchange veiled looks.

 

Jarrod seemed stunned for a moment but recovered quickly, “Vivian, this is a pleasant surprise.  And, Wendell, how good to see you again.”  He pulled his right hand from the woman’s hold and reached out to shake the man’s hand.

 

Completely ignoring all those around her, the woman gushed, “Oh, Jarrod, it is so, so good to see you out and about again.  I’ve been so worried about you.”

 

“Well, you shouldn’t have.  I’m fine, just been very busy.  Here, let me introduce you to my family and friends.  Mrs. Vivian Pritchard and Mr. Wendell Landers, this is my younger brother Peter Barkley and his wife Samantha and our younger sister Audra and her fiancé, Mr. Barton Stievers, who also happens to be Peter’s partner.  You know, I’m never sure which way to make that introduction, fiancé or partner first.”

 

As Barton leaned forward to shake Mr. Landers hand and nod at Mrs. Pritchard, he joked, “Well, if we want to say it in the order it occurred, it was partner then fiancé but if we want to say it in order of importance then, of course, fiancé comes first.”

 

As Christiana joined the polite laughter, her heart lurched, thinking she was going to be overlooked; but then Jarrod reached to take her hand and tuck it around his arm, “And this lovely lady is the very talented photographer, Mrs. Christiana Wilson.”

 

While Landers smiled at her politely, Mrs. Pritchard arched her eyebrows and lost her pretty smile.  When she spoke it was with a decidedly haughty tone, “Ah, a working girl.”

 

Barton’s friendly smile died immediately and Audra’s eyes widened in surprise.  On the other hand, Samantha’s eyes narrowed in anger and only Peter’s warning squeeze on her arm kept her from snapping out an angry response at this rude woman.  Peter was trying to think of something appropriate to say when Jarrod replied smoothly, “No, actually, Christiana is a very talented artist who also happens to be an astute businesswoman.  A very unusual and intriguing combination.”

 

Christiana didn’t dare look up at Jarrod’s face.  She knew she wouldn’t be able to control her smile; he would have known immediately how his words had touched her, made her feel important, wiped away the pain that the woman’s words had caused.  She didn’t realize that she had raised her chin and leveled her gaze at the other woman, but Peter and Samantha saw it and exchanged a knowing look.

 

“I thought you said she was a photographer,” Mrs. Pritchard pointed out.

 

“She is and, as Peter often says, she is an artist with her camera.  She not only takes some wonderful portraits, but you should see her landscapes.  They are simply incredible,” Jarrod continued to praise.  “You should go by her shop sometime.  It’s on Sansome near Sutter.”

 

“Jarrod,” Christiana blushed and gently tugged his arm.  He was beginning to embarrass her.  And she wondered how he knew where her shop was.

 

He turned his head so that he could grin down at her, “Sorry, Christiana, it’s just that we poor unartistic lawyers and bankers and such are always so overwhelmed by what really talented people can do.”

 

“Jarrod,” she couldn’t stop the laugh as she shook her head in dismay.  She didn’t realize that her eyes crinkled when she laughed or that her laughter was why Jarrod’s intense blue eyes were dancing now.

 

“Well, that is interesting, Jarrod,” Mrs. Pritchard murmured.  She took a deep breath and mustered a smile, “Well, it’s just so wonderful to see you again, Jarrod.  Please, can you come by the house tomorrow?  For lunch?  We have so much to catch up on.”

 

“I’m sorry, Vivian.  I have a busy schedule tomorrow and then it’s back to Sacramento and then on to Stockton.  Maybe the next time I’m in the city,” his smile was genuine.

 

“Oh, please, let’s make a point of it,” she cooed and then leaned in to kiss his cheek again but made sure that the kiss actually touched the corner of his mouth.

 

“I’ll try,” was his only comment but his smile did not seem as genuine now.  “Well, Wendell, it was good to see you again.  I actually think we need to be heading back into the box.  I have a feeling the next act will be starting shortly.”

 

“Of course,” it was Mrs. Pritchard who replied.  “Well, it was nice to meet you all and, Jarrod, I’m holding you to your word that you will stop to see me on your next trip here.”

 

Barton was holding the box door open for the ladies and Peter and Jarrod were lagging behind.  Samantha had turned to tell Peter that she wanted champagne during the next intermission, so she saw the look that Mrs. Pritchard gave over her shoulder to Jarrod’s back.  Audra and Christiana were the only ones close enough to hear Samantha’s whispered “hussy.”  Audra stared at her sister-in-law in shock, but Christiana’s eyes were focused on Vivian Pritchard’s face.  The look was . . . was . . . was so possessive.

 

Jarrod had been right; the play was resuming.  As she sat in the chair so near him, Christiana’s mind kept leaping from thought to thought.  She had been so surprised at how Jarrod’s praise had warmed her.  Generally she was confident enough about her photography that she did not need others’ approval.  But here, in this social setting so different from her usual world, she had, at first, been intimidated by the other woman, by her “working girl” scoff.   But Jarrod’s description of her as both an artist and an astute businesswoman had strengthened her and his added comment that she was unusual and intriguing, well, that had actually made her feel superior to the well-coiffered and beautifully attired Mrs. Pritchard.  With her hand around Jarrod’s arm and his words ringing in her ears, she had almost felt like she was looking down on this woman of society.

 

Now, though, as she sat close to Jarrod but not touching at all, her confidence slipped a little.  That look, that look that Mrs. Pritchard had directed at the unaware lawyer, it had spoken volumes.  Audra didn’t understand the look; but she and Samantha, married women, experienced women, knew it.  It implied an affection that was reciprocated; it hinted at possession; and, most of all, it smoldered of intimacy.  Mrs. Pritchard; Christiana wondered about where Mr. Pritchard was.  A divorced woman or a lonely widow?  Christiana resisted the urge to look at Jarrod.  Taking care of lonely widows . . . was that Jarrod’s specialty?  And the way Mrs. Pritchard was dressed, elegant, expensive; and she was so sophisticated, so completely different from Christiana.  Was that what Jarrod preferred?  As the second act neared its end, Christiana had made up her mind that Jarrod’s defense of her had simply been the result of his mother’s training.  He was a gentleman; Christiana was part of his party; so he simply did what any gentleman would do.  She was sure that the next time he was in San Francisco that he would be making time for Mrs. Pritchard.

 

As the second act ended and the house lights were again turned up, Samantha turned and asked Peter to please get her some champagne.  Declaring he wasn’t going to balance a bunch of flutes, the blond brother nudged his older brother onto his feet and pulled Barton away from Audra.  As soon as they left the box, Samantha turned her flashing green eyes to Christiana, “Could you believe that hussy?!”

 

Christiana pretended that she didn’t understand, “What?”

 

“Don’t pretend you didn’t see that look she gave Jarrod,” Samantha hissed.  “It was disgraceful.”

 

“She just looked at him,” Christiana shrugged her shoulders.

 

“Oh, my God, Christiana, she was practically licking her lips,” Samantha spat out.

 

Christiana took a deep breath, “Samantha, I don’t guess that’s any of our business.”

 

“It most certainly is!  He’s my husband’s brother.”

 

“Yes, and he’s a grown man and they obviously have a history and I’m sure he wouldn’t appreciate it if you said anything about her.”

 

“You act as if you don’t even care,” Samantha challenged.

 

And now Christiana’s performance would have rivaled that of this evening’s actors, “Why would I care?  Jarrod is just my friend’s brother-in-law.”

 

Samantha gave her an exasperated look and then turned her eyes to Audra, looking for help.  Audra, however, just shrugged her shoulders and suggested, “Why don’t we wait for the men outside?  I’d like to stand and stretch again.  How about you, Sam?”

 

“Oh, all right, but if that witch comes back I’m ignoring her and coming back in here.”

 

“Goodness, Samantha, tell us what you really think of her,” Christiana tried to lighten her friend’s mood.

 

Samantha made a face but did stand and lead them to the hallway again.  They exchanged a few pleasantries with some of the other theater-goers.  Up the hallway they could hear a man with an English accent disparaging the performance, talking loudly about the presentation he and his wife had seen in London last year.  The man sounded a little drunk and more than a little rude.  Samantha rolled her eyes and both Audra and Christiana nodded their agreement; some people had absolutely no couth.  They would have returned to the box except that the three men arrived then, with champagne in hand.  Again, more pleasantries were exchanged with those around them.  The loudmouth’s voice was getting closer.  At first they all ignored him but then Peter cocked his head to one side and frowned.  His eyes began to rove the crowd in the hallway, looking for the source of the voice.  As a man about Peter’s age, dressed in a sea captain’s dashing suit, came up the hallway, Samantha heard her husband whisper, “Sedge?”

 

Her eyes went to the loud stranger who was still criticizing the quality of the performance and then back to her husband’s face.  Peter looked stunned.  As the sea captain drew close, Peter repeated the name, “Sedge?”

 

The man stopped immediately, his eyes moving up and down Peter’s body, a deep frown creasing his weathered but darkly handsome face.  Finally, he replied, “Peter?”

 

Peter nodded slowly, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.  He extended his hand toward the man who brushed it aside and gathered Peter up in a big bear hug.  “Easy, Sedge, you’re gonna break my ribs,” Peter growled.

 

“Ah, you always was a softy.”

 

“Hey, that’s not true.  Cleaned your clock a few times.”

 

“No, you never!”

 

“Have you forgotten Sicily?”

 

“Well, I was a little under the weather,” the other man protested.  “You remember, there was that little problem I had picked up from that fat little whore in Dubrovnik.  Should have been like you and taken the skinny bitch.”

 

Peter colored slightly and then blustered, “Well, umm, what the heck are you doing in San Francisco?”

 

“Just landed a few days ago with a shipment from China.  Gotten myself a good contract to captain a fine freighter on runs across the Pacific.  It’s a bloody fine run.  So what are you doing in San Francisco?” the sea captain demanded.

 

“I live here.  I’m a banker now.”

 

The hoot shook the walls of the hallway, “A banker.  Now that’s a fine thing.  Peter the Pirate a banker and Salty Dog Sedge a sea captain.  Now ain’t that a yarn waiting to be spun.”

 

“I guess it is, Sedge,” Peter agreed and patted the other man’s shoulder.  “Oh, I should introduce you to my family and friends. Everyone, this scoundrel is Sedgwick Pearce.  We spent a good bit of time sailing around the Mediterranean together.  Sedge, this is my brother Jarrod Barkley; Mrs. Christiana Wilson, a very talented photographer who lives here in the city also; my little sister Audra; her fiancé, Barton Stievers, who also happens to be my partner; and last but certainly not least, my beautiful wife, Samantha.”

 

“Captain Sedgwick Pearce at your service, ma’am,” he bent over Samantha’s hand.  When he straightened, his eyes again ran up and down her frame, lingering at her rounded midsection.  Instinctively, Samantha placed a hand over her child, feeling an overwhelming need to protect the baby she carried inside her.  The man cocked his head and gave her a very small, laconic smile as if he knew what she was thinking.  But he spoke to Peter then, “Ah, well, then I should introduce my wife also, but then you know my wife, don’t you, Peter.  Know even as they say in the Biblical sense.”

 

Peter’s smile dropped away and he looked beyond Sedgwick Pearce to the tall, olive-skinned woman who had stayed a few steps away.  Again his voice dropped to a shocked whisper, “Tessa?”

 

“Ah, see, he does remember you, Tessa.  And you thought he wouldn’t just because you weren’t his first,” her husband’s words sent a bright flush up the woman’s slender throat into her face.  “Come, Tessa, surely you have a kiss and a smile for your old amore.”

 

The captain reached back and grasped his wife’s arm and pulled her to stand in front of Peter.  Jarrod wasn’t sure what he saw in the woman’s eyes – pain, fear, humiliation.  Her cheeks flamed as her husband taunted, “Ah, come now, you two.  No reason to be shy.  I, of course, know of your indulgences.  Given Peter’s appetite, I am sure his wife has encountered his paramours before.  So let us all be civilized.  A kiss shared between old lovers.  Not as passionate as probably your last but something permissible here at the theater.”

 

Peter stared down into the woman’s liquid brown eyes for a long moment, then he bent and brushed her cheek with the softest of kisses.  “Hello, Tessa,” he whispered.

 

She refused to meet his eyes and barely managed to whisper, “Peter.’

 

“Ah, so subdued.  How unlike your usual greetings back when Peter and I sailed the ports of the Mediterranean,” Captain Pearce’s tone was teasing but his eyes glimmered ominously.  “There were times I think you two did not wait until you got to your rooms . . . just found the nearest alley.”

 

Jarrod noted that Peter did not bother to deny the allegation.  Instead, his little brother’s eyes were focused on Captain Pearce’s wife, the very beautiful Tessa.  And, Jarrod’s eyes darted to his sister-in-law’s face, Samantha was watching her husband, her own eyes clouded with confusion.  The air in the narrow corridor was become thick with the tension.  Do something, Jarrod silently commanded his little brother, say something.

 

And Peter must have heard Pappy’s unspoken orders because he smoothly addressed the group, “It’s good to see you again, Sedge, Tessa.  Unfortunately, I believe the third act is about to start so I guess we’ll have to cut our reunion short.  The best to you both.”

 

There was a good deal of cynicism in Pearce’s tone as he acknowledged Peter’s dismissal, “Yes, you’re right.  The play is about to resume; however, we’re leaving now.  But maybe we can get together sometime and talk about old times.”

 

“That would be good,” Peter nodded and the stepped back.  “As I said, we better get back to our seats.  Good night, Sedge, Tessa.”

 

Barton was the first to move.  He gently took a wide-eyed Audra’s elbow and guided her back into the box.  Jarrod put out a hand to gently touch Christiana’s arm.  She looked up at him, her brow crinkled in concern.  He nodded toward the box and she gave him a quick nod of her head.  He couldn’t help but notice that when Peter reached over to take Samantha’s arm that she avoided his touch and walked into the box with a stiff back.

 

 

 

Chapter 14

 

The third act might not have been performed as far as those in the Barkley party were concerned.  Peter was slumped back in his chair, one hand to his mouth, his eyes unfocused, his thoughts obviously elsewhere.  In stark contrast, Samantha sat ramrod straight, her back not touching the back of the chair, her mouth set in a straight line.  The others in the party would glance surreptitiously at the couple and then exchange concerned looks.  When the play was finally over, they all applauded politely if unenthusiastically and then moved as a silent group to the exit and walked out onto the sidewalk together to await the next available hack.

 

“I’ll see Christiana home,” Jarrod finally broke the silence, his voice soft and his eyes reflecting his worry for his brother’s obvious marital problems.

 

Peter nodded his head absently, “Thanks, Jarrod.  Appreciate that.  Sam’s pretty tired.  I think we need to get her on home.”

 

“Uh huh,” the older brother let the statement stand, not sure what to say to his little brother, knowing it was anger and not tiredness that had caused his sister-in-law’s usual smile to disappear.

 

When the hack carrying Peter, Samantha, Barton, and Audra pulled away from the curb, however, Christiana turned to him, “You don’t have to see me home, Jarrod.  I can make it fine by myself.”

 

He looked down into her lovely brown eyes and carefully replied, “I’m sure you can, but remember, Peter and I told you about our mother’s wooden spoon and what she would do to us if she learned we did not behave as proper gentlemen.”

 

“Jarrod, really, there’s no need,” she protested, feeling just a little hurt that the only reason he would see her home was to carry out his role as a gentleman.  Rather crudely, she wondered if he was always a gentleman with Mrs. Pritchard.  Given the smoldering look the woman had given him, she sincerely doubted it.

 

“Well, even if there’s no need, please humor me.  I’ll rest better knowing you made it home safely.”

 

Short of turning on her heel and walking away from him to the street car stop, there wasn’t much she could do.  Certainly, she couldn’t afford to hire a hack for herself.  Apparently, he took her lack of response as acquiescence because he hailed a hack and then helped her in.  He gave the address for her shop and apartment and again she wondered how he knew such things.  They sat across from each other in uncomfortable silence for several minutes.  Finally, Jarrod ventured, “Did you enjoy the play?”

 

“Yes,” she said quickly.  “It’d been a long time since I’d taken time to go to a play.  I thought it was very good.”

 

“So did I,” he smiled softly.  Both knew they were dancing around the derisive remarks that Peter’s former shipmate had made about the performance.  After a few moments, Jarrod hazarded, “I could tell you enjoyed the first act but then you seemed a little distracted during the rest of it.”

 

She wasn’t about to admit that Mrs. Pritchard’s comments and, more importantly, the woman’s attitude toward Jarrod had upset her.  “Oh, well, I could tell that Samantha was upset by that Captain Pearce’s rather crude comments.  She’s my friend; I was concerned about her.”  She tried not to think about how it felt to know that Jarrod had been watching her watch the play.  It seemed too personal, too much like he cared how she felt about things.

 

“Yes,” he nodded not daring to point out that she had seemed distracted before the encounter with Captain Pearce.  He also tried to ignore that she believed that her only tie to him was as the friend of his sister-in-law. “Sam was pretty upset.  I hate that for her . . . especially in her condition.”

 

Christiana gave him a curious look, her eyes scanning his face.  She finally replied, “Being confronted with your husband’s past amours hurts no matter what your condition.”

 

He blinked but he didn’t break his close scrutiny of her face.  She had been hurt, he knew instantly.  Her husband, the man that she seemed to have loved with all her heart, had hurt her at some point.  After a few moments, she dropped her eyes to watch her hands play with the folds of her skirt.  His eyes, too, fell to her hands.  Small hands, he thought, but so strong.  He had seen the way she could handle her heavy camera.  After a few more quiet moments, he said softly, “Unfortunately, sometimes we men don’t always consider how something we did long ago would trouble those close to us now.  I think that the important thing to remember is that Peter loves Samantha, that he chose to ask her to marry him, that she is the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with.”

 

“That’s true,” she whispered, “but how do you know that he didn’t ask Mrs. Pearce to do the same thing and that she chose not to accept his proposal.  He cared about her; you heard how he said her name.  That’s what is hurting Samantha . . . that he cared about that woman once, that he perhaps still cares about her.”

 

“You can care for someone from your past but, truthfully, once you’ve set yourself down a different path, once you have chosen the person to share your life with, then your caring for someone from your past is simply that of one caring for a friend.  I’m sure that is the extent of Peter’s feelings for Mrs. Pearce.”

 

“I’m sure you’re right,” she said softly, almost demurely, as if she wanted this conversation to end and thought that by agreeing with him she would accomplish that.

 

For some reason, Jarrod refused to allow her this feminine ploy and pressed, “I know you were young when you married, but surely there must have been other beaus before you married Allen.  Other young men whom you cared for and whom you now think of as friends.  Others whom if you happened to meet them in a social setting you would smile and talk with, remembering good times from years before.”

 

She slowly shook her head, “Allen was my first beau, my only beau, the only man I ever cared about.  He was older than I was, a friend of my uncle.  That was one of the things that caused problems with my family, that he was so much older, 14 years older.  But I was infatuated with him, from the time I was 16, so I refused to see any of the young gentlemen callers that my parents tried to arrange.  I never considered caring for anyone other than Allen.  We were married as soon as I turned 18.  And truthfully, Jarrod, you can’t compare the feelings that a woman has for an old beau with the feelings a man might have for a woman he has shared a more intimate relationship with.”

 

Surprised at her directness, he sat back in his seat, his sharp blue eyes locked on her deep brown ones.  He slowly nodded, “I suppose you’re right, it is different.  But, at the risk of denigrating my gender, I have to tell you that many times we men place less significance on the relationships that have become intimate as compared to those that are platonic but have a foundation of friendship, shared interests, common respect.”

 

She raised an eyebrow, “Really?”

 

He smiled and cocked his head to the side, “Really.”  He considered adding something more, but the hack pulled up in front of Christiana’s photography studio.  Jarrod stepped from the carriage and reached back to help her from the coach.  “Wait for me for a few minutes while I ensure that the young lady is safe and secure for the night.”

 

“Yes, sir,” the cabbie tipped his hat.

 

Christiana whispered to him, “I’m perfectly capable of ensuring my own safety and security.”

 

“I know that,” he smiled at her, “but my mother instructed me that my responsibilities did not end until whomever I escorted was safely delivered to her home.  Where’s your key?”

 

Sighing softly, she extracted the key from her handbag and handed it to him.  His eyes twinkled as he took the key from her, unlocked the door, and held it open for her.  As soon as she crossed the threshold, she turned with her hand out, but he refused to surrender the key.  “You live upstairs, right?” he asked as he stepped into the room.  In response to her nod, he added, “Why don’t you light a lamp and go up and make sure everything is secure there?  I’ll wait for you here.”

 

“Jarrod,” she was exasperated with him.  “This isn’t necessary.”

 

“Yes, it is,” he replied patiently.  “I’m not giving you your key back until you check.  Look at it this way, you’ll be rid of me sooner if you just do as I ask.”

 

“I’m not trying to get rid of you,” she said and then, as he lifted an eyebrow, hastily added, “I just am not use to anyone worrying about whether my rooms are secure or not.  I come in and out of here all the time, at all hours of the day and night, without a guardian.”

 

“I understand that,” his eyes were serious.  “And I have to confess that my guardian nature does make me wonder just how safe you are but I certainly would not presume to recommend you change how you go about your business.  But, for this evening, I do ask that you just check upstairs to be sure everything is all right before I leave.”

 

She rolled her eyes at him but as she carried the lamp upstairs, deposited her shawl over the chair in her tiny sitting room, and quickly checked all her windows she felt the strangest feeling bubble up inside of her.  It pleased her, yes, that was it, it pleased her that someone cared about her safety, even if it was just for one night.  She walked downstairs and back to where he stood patiently just inside the doorway.

 

“All clear,” she said with a smile.  “No monsters under the bed or lunatics hiding in the wardrobe.  I believe your job is done.”

 

“I’ll sleep much better,” he returned the smile and surrendered the key.

 

She finally asked the question that had been bothering her since his conversation with Mrs. Pritchard, “How did you know where my shop is?”

 

“I did a little checking last week, before I left town.  In fact, I came by one afternoon but you were closed.  I saw a couple of landscapes in your window that I’m interested in purchasing,” he explained.

 

“Really?  I must have been out at an appointment,” she allowed herself to be pleasantly surprised.   “Do you want to look at those pictures now?”

 

“I’d like to see them in the daylight.  Will you be open tomorrow?” he asked.

 

“Yes, I’ll be here . . . no outside appointments scheduled,” Christiana tried to sound all business.  “You’re welcome to come by any time.”

 

“What if I came by about 11 and then perhaps you could close up and we could go to lunch together,” Jarrod said it as if he had just thought of it.

 

“Well,” she hesitated for a moment but then managed a smile and a shrug, “well, who am I to pass up a nice lunch with such a gentleman?  I would be delighted.”  Her eyes crinkled as her smile widened.

 

The crinkled eyes tickled him for some reason; he thought she might just really be delighted with the invitation.  “Well, I have to say that despite some of the surprises that occurred this evening, the performance and your presence made it a very enjoyable evening for me.”

 

“It was for me, too,” she said it with absolutely no hint of feminine wiliness.

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Christiana.  Sleep well,” his smile reached up to his eyes.

 

“Looking forward to it, Jarrod.  Be safe,” she replied.

 

“Be sure to lock up behind me,” he added

 

She couldn’t help but snort, “Of, yes, Jarrod, I’m going to leave the door to my place of business unlocked at night.  What kind of astute businesswoman would that make me?”

 

He turned to grin at her and wink before he pulled the door shut.  It wasn’t until he heard the key turn the lock that he stepped away from the door.

 

She watched him through the crack above the window shade.  As he climbed into the hack, she suddenly realized that he had told Mrs. Pritchard that he would be too busy tomorrow to join her for lunch.  For a heartbeat, she started to open the door and call out to him to remind him of his busy schedule, but then understanding dawned.  Jarrod Barkley was much too organized to have forgotten any appointments.  No, he had made up an excuse to avoid seeing Mrs. Pritchard.  Perhaps, she smiled to herself, he was even then planning to ask her to lunch.  The warm feeling that enveloped her stayed with Christiana for the rest of the night.

 

 

 

Chapter 15

 

Thoughts of Christiana Wilson accompanied Jarrod as he slipped off to sleep that night; however, thoughts of his brother and sister-in-law woke him early the next morning.  Samantha’s anger had been palatable, and he could understand her discomfort.  But, just as he had told Christiana, he was certain that Samantha had Peter’s heart no matter what his former association with Mrs. Pearce had been.  Concern, though, over his brother’s marital state propelled him out of house and onto his horse before breakfast the next morning.  He thought he would just try to catch his brother for a few minutes before Peter headed off to the bank to see if there was anything that could be done to sooth Samantha.

 

Feeling a little foolish, Jarrod tied his horse to the ornate iron hitching post in front of Peter’s large home.  A family home, Jarrod thought, as he started up the brick walk, so different from his own stylish townhouse.  Oh, Samantha had decorated it beautifully, but the wide porches and large yards brought forth images of adults sitting, sipping lemonade or other beverages as the sounds of children playing floated around them.  Jarrod wondered if he would ever have need for such a home.  Not exactly sure why he was here this morning, Jarrod hesitated before he knocked on the front door.  It would be a light knock, especially given the early hour.  A light knock, he told himself, so that if everyone was upstairs asleep or back in the kitchen he wouldn’t disturb them.  One knock and if there was no answer, he’d just forget this foolishness and go on to a cafe for an early breakfast.  One knock and . . . .

 

The heavy oak door swung open and a very rumpled, unshaven Peter peered out in obvious confusion, “Jarrod?  Is something wrong?”

 

Jarrod felt the flush steal up his neck, “Well, everything’s fine with me, but I wasn’t sure if there was a problem here or not.  Given the way you look this morning, I have to surmise that things didn’t go too smoothly once you got home last night.”

 

For a moment, Jarrod thought that Peter was going to very correctly inform his older brother that none of this was any of his business.  But then a rueful smile tugged at the younger man’s lips, “Yep, it was a little strained last night.  Sam was none too happy with me.  Come in, I was just having my first cup of coffee.  You want some?”

 

“That would be wonderful,” Jarrod removed his hat and followed his brother through the house to his office.  Peter’s suit jacket and tie were tossed over one chair and a light throw was crumpled at the foot of the settee.  It was obvious where Peter had spent his night.  “Get much rest last night, brother Pete?”

 

Peter’s eyes followed Jarrod’s look and then groaned softly, “Not really.  First time I’ve had to sleep in my office since we’ve moved to San Francisco.  I discovered that Sam made sure to pick really uncomfortable furniture for this office.  I’m sure she did it on purpose.”

 

“So you had the opportunity to sleep in your office in New Orleans?” Jarrod accepted the cup of coffee that Peter extended.

 

“Hmm,” Peter made a face, “a few times.  There are times that Sam makes it real clear that I’m not wanted in our bedroom.”

 

“You know, Mother always said never go to bed angry.”

 

“It’s a good theory but, unfortunately, it doesn’t always work that way for us.  Sometimes Sam has to hold onto her anger for a bit,” Peter sighed.

 

“She was pretty upset with you last night?” Jarrod asked carefully.

 

“OH, YEAH,” Peter rolled his eyes.  “As soon as we got home, she let me know just how upset she was.  Her scolding ended with something like she was certainly glad that my mother wasn’t here to hear how her son had behaved and that she certainly hoped that I would think about how what that ‘horrid man’ said had embarrassed her and Audra and Christiana AND that I might think about that when I instruct my sons on how to conduct their lives so that such embarrassments could be avoided in the future.”

 

“Ohh,” Jarrod cringed.  “That doesn’t sound good.  What are you going to do?”

 

Peter laughed, “Probably follow her advice and try to teach my sons not to do things that are going to embarrass their mother or their sister or the wife they may someday have.”

 

“So, Mrs. Pearce, a woman from your past?”

 

The younger brother sighed deeply, “She was a whore that I spent some time with many, many years ago.  That’s all.”

 

“Sam believe that?”

 

“I really didn’t get a chance to tell her that last night.  I’m hoping to get that chance today.”

 

“You seemed rather fond of her,” Jarrod pressed.  Peter stared at him, frowning deeply.  Remembering Christiana’s words, the lawyer continued, “The way you looked at her; the way you said her name.  Someone could infer that you cared for her.”

 

“There was a time I cared for her, the way an 18-year-old boy cares for a young whore who seems pleased to be with him.  She wasn’t an innocent when I took her, her father and brothers had seen to that, but she had a gentle way about her.  We made each other happy for a time and then I left.  I never loved her.”

 

“And now?”

 

“Now, now I just feel sorry for her.  Sedge is not a particularly nice man and he tends to be very rough on the women in his life.  I’m sorry Tessa ended up with him.  Do you think Sam will believe me?”

 

“Well, it seems reasonable to me; however, I’m just your big brother.  I won’t even try to guess how your wife . . . or any other woman for that matter . . . will react.”

 

Peter chuckled softly and reached over to clap his brother on the shoulder, “You’re right.  Who knows?  Say, do you want some breakfast?”

 

“No,” Jarrod shook his head.  “Now that I know that Sam didn’t beat you to death with her handbag, I think I’ll head on into my office.  I don’t think I want to run into her this morning and give her the impression that I thought there was anything wrong last night.”

 

“Hey, speaking of things wrong last night, you want to tell me about this Mrs. Pritchard,” it was Peter’s turn to press.

 

Jarrod slowly shook his head, “Let’s just say she was a little mistake from my past.”

 

“Oh, really,” the younger brother’s eyes lit up.  “Now that sounds intriguing.  Pappy made a mistake with a woman.  Didn’t know that ever happened.”

 

“Oh, it’s happened,” Jarrod rolled his eyes, “and Vivian was one of the more stupid ones.”

 

“More stupid,” Peter almost crowed.  This was getting good.  “Do tell, big brother.”

 

Wishing that his little brother would just drop the whole thing but knowing he wasn’t going to be that lucky, he admitted, “Vivian’s late husband was a client of mine.  I’d handled a number of his business affairs.  When he died, Vivian asked me to help her settle his estate.  We spent some time together.  Vivian is, how shall we say, a very passionate woman.”

 

“Passionate,” Peter was enjoying this immensely.

 

His brother sighed, “Yes, passionate.  She made her desires known to me.  I indicated that it would be inappropriate since I was her lawyer.  She fired me, I recommended another attorney for her, and then we began a very short affair.”

 

“My, my, my,” the younger brother chuckled.  “I always wondered what the fancy attorney did for his entertainment.”

 

Jarrod reached over to punch his brother in the arm, “I’ve already told you it was a stupid mistake.  It’s not something I’m accustomed to doing, but she kept talking about how she was a young woman who had been married to an old man, how alone she was now, how she just needed to feel close to someone.  I told myself that she was a sophisticated woman, one who I suspected had had lovers even during her marriage to Conner.  I told myself she wasn’t an innocent, that she was the one initiating this, that no one would be hurt.  It was only after I had been with her that I found she was, in truth, angling for another rich husband.  I tried to ease out of the relationship, she became more aggressive.  She was one of the reasons that I went back East to Washington for the water rights hearings; I wanted to get out of her grasp.  It was on the train trip back that I met Beth.”

 

“Ah, fate,” Peter smiled softly.

 

“Perhaps,” his brother nodded.  “After I lost Beth, after a bit of time, I came back to San Francisco, back to my practice here with the thought it might be easier to be away from the ranch, from the last place that Beth and I shared.  I had hardly gotten back into town when Vivian came to my office.  She offered to help me get over Beth like I had helped her get over Conner.  I was a little short with her I’m afraid.  I learned she didn’t like hearing ‘no.’  I’ve made it a point to avoid most social occasions any time I have to be in San Francisco just so I don’t have to deal with her advances.  She is a very persistent woman.”

 

“Some men like persistent.”

 

“I’m afraid I’m not one.  I prefer to do the pursuing.”

 

“Really?  Well, are you pursuing anyone now?”

 

“No,” Jarrod hesitated for a moment and then admitted, “but I am having lunch with a delightful young woman today so I better get to my office to get some work done.”

 

“Oh, really,” Peter smiled widely.  “I know it’s not Mrs. Pritchard . . . I’m betting that it just might be Christiana.”

 

With a straight face, Jarrod handed his brother his empty coffee cup and calmly replied, “I’m not going to bet against you.”

 

The younger brother clapped his pappy on the shoulder and just nodded, “Good.  Well, if you’re not going to join me for breakfast, I think I’ll go upstairs and see if Sam has cooled down enough to let me in to clean up and change clothes.”

 

As they strolled from Peter’s office to the entry, Jarrod asked, “Do you think she’ll let you in?”

 

“She usually does, but she was pretty hot last night.  It hurt her a lot, having to listen to Sedge’s remarks with Audra and Christiana there.  She’s pretty angry with me . . . and rightfully so.  But I look sufficiently rumpled and lacking of sleep so she might just think I’ve paid enough penance to at least get to shave and put on clean clothes.  Of course, she has been known to throw my things out into the hallway, too.”

 

“Little bit of a temper, huh,” Jarrod teased lightly.

 

“Oh, I think we’re pretty evenly matched and generally she’s got good reason for showing hers.  It usually doesn’t hurt me to eat a little crow.”

 

Jarrod patted his little brother’s shoulder, “Well, crow doesn’t sound that tempting to me.  I think I’ll see if I can’t find a café serving something a little more appetizing.”

 

Peter started to answer but a voice from the top of the stairs stopped him.

 

“Peter,” Samantha’s voice was strained.  Both Jarrod and Peter turned to look up the stairs.  Jarrod was stunned.  Samantha, still wearing her nightgown, was standing part way down stairway, one hand gripping the banister, the other wrapped around her rounded stomach.  Her eyes were red-rimmed and he saw not anger but fear in her face.  “Peter,” she repeated.  “I’m having pains.”

 

 

 

Chapter 16

 

“Peter, I’m afraid,” Samantha whispered.  “The pains . . . .”

 

Jarrod heard his brother catch his breath but when Peter spoke his voice was calm.  “It’s all right, honey,” Peter took the stairs two at a time and was beside Samantha in a heartbeat.  “C’mon, honey, let’s get you back in bed.  It’s gonna be all right.”

 

Tears filled Samantha’s voice, “Oh, no it’s not, Peter.  The pains are hard.”

 

“Let’s get you lying down; that’ll help the pains.”

 

“No, it won’t, Peter.  I’ve been lying down but it didn’t stop the pains.  Oh, Peter, I’m so afraid.”

 

“Shh, it’s going to be all right.  C’mon, let me help you.  Jarrod, would you do me a favor and go see if you can find Sean in the kitchen and ask him to go for Dr. Anderson,” Peter turned back to look at his older brother who had remained at the foot of the stairs.

 

“Not Dr. Vanders?” Jarrod knew that Dr. Vanders was his brother’s family doctor who had taken care of Eugene when he was sick with the influenza last fall.

 

“No, Dr. Anderson,” Peter’s voice was calm but Jarrod saw the pure fear in his eyes.  “He’s a specialist.  Sean knows where he lives.  And, after you tell Sean, would you bring us a glass of sherry.”

 

“No,” Samantha gagged.  “Not sherry, I got sick on sherry the last time.  I can’t even think about drinking another drop.”

 

“All right, honey, maybe we’ll try a little brandy, all right?” Peter was gentle.  “Now let me carry you upstairs and get you settled in bed while Jarrod sends Sean for the doctor and gets us that brandy.”

 

Jarrod watched as his little brother effortlessly picked his wife up and carried her up the remaining stairs and toward their bedroom.  He shook himself from his shock and hurried to the kitchen to find Peter’s groom.  When he passed along Peter’s request, he saw Sean exchange a quick look with Carlotta and Marie, but the young man just bobbed his head and dashed out the door.  Before Jarrod could even make it to the sitting room to pour the glass of brandy that Peter had requested, he heard Sean riding out of the yard.  He wondered if the man had even saddled a horse.

 

When Jarrod reached the second floor, he found Samantha back in bed and Peter sitting on the bed beside her, trying to calm her.

 

“It’s my fault, Peter.  I shouldn’t have gone to the theater last night after just going to the symphony last week.  It was my fault.  I was being so selfish.  It just sounded like so much fun for all of us to go out together.  But I should have thought of the baby.”

 

Peter gently shushed his wife, “It wasn’t your fault.  You know that.  All you did was sit and watch a play.  You were probably on your feet less than if we had stayed in last night.  Now, hush about this being your fault.”

 

“Oh, but it is, Peter.  The doctor warned me, but I didn’t listen.”

 

“It’s not your fault,” Peter repeated.  “Now, how many pains have you had?”

 

“Three, maybe four.  One woke me up; I’m not sure if that was the first one.  And I stayed in bed, thinking maybe I was wrong, maybe it was just indigestion or something.  But then another pain came.  I told myself that if I lay still and was very calm maybe there wouldn’t be another one . . . but there was, Peter,” her voice broke.

 

“Shhh, it’s all right,” Peter smoothed her hair with one hand while continuing to hold one of her tiny hands in his other.  “Now, how much time was between the pains . . . ten minutes, fifteen?”

 

“I don’t know,” she sobbed softly.  “Maybe 20 minutes . . . I’m not sure.”

 

“All right, and how long did the pains last?”

 

“I don’t know.  A minute or two, I’m not sure,” her voice quivered.  “Oh, Peter, this is so bad.  I just know it.”

 

“Now, you’ve had pains before and they’ve stopped,” he soothed.  “They probably will this time.”

 

“They haven’t lasted this long,” she countered, “or been this hard.  I think it’s happening, Peter.  I think I’m losing the baby.”

 

Jarrod swallowed hard.  Hearing the words, spoken by his distraught sister-in-law, tore at his heart.  He had so hoped that maybe he was misunderstanding what was happening.  He forced himself to call to his brother, “Peter, I brought the brandy.”

 

Peter turned and managed a small smile of thanks for his big brother, “Good.  Let’s try a little sip, Sam.  This will help relax you.”  He helped his wife sit up enough to take a sip from the snifter that he held.  She grimaced and sputtered and shook her head.  “Too strong?  We’ll get Jarrod to cut it with some water.”

 

The older brother quickly took the glass that the younger extended and added water from the pitcher on the washstand.  He watched silently as Peter helped Samantha take a few sips.  The drink, however, wasn’t calming Samantha at all.

 

“I didn’t listen to you or the doctor.  I should have listened.  I just thought that since there had been no problems since Thanksgiving, since I made it to Stockton and back at Christmas with no problems, that we were in the clear.  Oh, dear God, I should have listened,” she sobbed.

 

“Hush, baby, you know that getting upset is the worse thing that you can do right now.  It’s not your fault; things happen that we have no control over.  You know that, Sam,” Peter was gentle but firm as he tried to get her to sip some more of the brandy.  “I thought the same thing as you did; that we were in the clear . . . and we still might be, honey.”

 

His gentle solace was cut short when Samantha gasped and twisted onto her side, grasping her stomach.  “Another pain?” Peter asked quickly.  All she could do was nod her head.

 

Jarrod swallowed hard and watched as his brother quickly pulled out his pocket watch, opened it, and set it on the table beside their bed.  Peter continued to croon softly to Samantha, urging her to relax, telling her to squeeze his hand as hard as she needed, promising her that everything was going to be all right.  All the time, he seemed to be keeping one eye on his watch.  When Samantha seemed to be breathing easier, Peter gently brushed her hair from her forehead and leaned down to kiss her.  He encouraged her to drink a little more of the brandy.  Tears slid slowly down her cheeks as she complied.  It was several moments before she could whisper, “The children?”

 

“I’m sure they’re still asleep,” Peter said quickly, “but I know Jarrod will check for us.”

 

“I’ll take care of it,” Jarrod replied instantly.  He walked down the hall, peeking in the little boys’ room first.  Finding both Tom and Nicky sound asleep, he stepped across the hall to his little princess’s room.  Lizzie V., however, was wide awake, sitting in her canopied crib, quietly playing with her favorite dolly.  When she saw her uncle, her green eyes twinkled and she held up her arms, “Unca Jawod.”

 

He had no willpower when it came to the little lady, “Good morning, princess.  You are such a good girl.”  He reached in and picked her up and kissed her bouncing curls.  She dimpled for him, and he gently bounced her in his arms and tried to decide what to do next.  He’d never gotten a child up and dressed.  Maybe he just needed to let Samantha and Peter know that the boys were asleep and that he was going to get Maria to take care of Lizzie, but he was afraid that if he put the little girl back in her bed she might start crying.  Contemplating his dilemma, he absently rocked back and forth, which drew a laugh from Lizzie V.  He smiled at her and patted her back.  “Well, what are we to do, Lizzie V.?” he asked and kissed her cheek.

 

“Jarrod?”

 

Jarrod swung around to see Audra standing in the doorway, in her robe but with her hair brushed.  “Jarrod?” she repeated, “I thought I heard your voice.  What’s going on?  Why are you here so early?”

 

“Umm, I came by to check on Peter and Samantha.  I was a little worried with how things ended last night,” he started to explain.

 

“Always pappy to us all,” she smiled at her big brother.  “I’m sure that Peter and Sam are going to be fine.  They love each other too much to have something like this come between them.”

 

“You’re right, honey,” he nodded.  “But there’s a problem.  Sam’s having pains this morning.  They’ve sent for the doctor.”

 

“Pains?” Audra’s brow wrinkled in confusion.

 

He nodded and fought to keep his voice calm, “They’re afraid she’s going to lose the baby.”

 

Her eyes rounded and a hand flew to her mouth, “Oh, my God, no.”

 

“Sam’s worried about the children.  Peter’s staying with her and he asked me to check on them.  Tom and Nicky are still asleep, but our beautiful little princess was awake playing with her dolly.  Do you think you could see to her?”

 

“Of course,” Audra shook herself from her shock.  “Let me have our little Lizzie.  Tell Sam not to worry about the children.  I’ll see to them.”

 

“Look, if you’ll take care of Lizzie now, I’ll go put Samantha’s mind at ease then I’ll take care of getting the boys up and around,” he offered.

 

She nodded, “That would be a help.  I need to get myself dressed, too.  I’ll hurry.”

 

He started to tease her that he knew that getting dressed in a hurry wasn’t something that Audra could accomplish, but there was something about her expression that made him realize that this wasn’t a good comment at this time.  Instead he just leaned over and kissed her cheek and then went to let Peter and Samantha know that the children were fine and would be cared for.  Samantha managed to whisper a “thank you,” and Peter smiled and nodded at his brother but kept his attention focused on his wife.  Jarrod wanted to ask if Samantha had suffered more pains but he didn’t want to upset his sister-in-law.  That’s the last thing he wanted to do.

 

 

 

Chapter 17

 

Jarrod quietly left his brother and sister-in-law’s room and went down the hall to the little boys’ room and discovered that both his nephews were just starting to stir.  They were surprised to see their Uncle Jarrod but he managed to smooth over his presence.  He helped them both use the chamber pot in their room and then to wash and dress.  Tom insisted he could dress himself so Jarrod concentrated on Nicky.  He found that his big fingers were a little clumsy in buttoning little boys’ shirts and overalls but, with a little work, he managed to get his wiggling nephew dressed.  He was surprised when Audra came in just as he was helping Nicky with his shoes, both she and Lizzie V. neatly dressed.

 

“Well, don’t you two look handsome,” Audra said cheerfully.  “Do you need any help with Nicky’s shoes, Uncle Jarrod?”

 

“Just about to get them if Nicky can be still for just another minute,” he replied.  “Ah, there we go.”

 

“All right, boys, let’s go down and have our breakfasts,” she urged the boys.

 

“Where’s Mamma and Pappa?” Nicky demanded.

 

Aunt Audra was ready for him, “Mamma is feeling a little tired this morning and Pappa is taking care of her.”

 

“Is it ‘cause of the baby?” the little boy frowned.

 

“Well, yes, sometimes when mammas are going to have babies they need extra rest,” Audra smiled at him.  “But your mamma will be feeling better soon.”

 

Nicky pouted, “Wish there wasn’t gonna be a baby.  Mamma don’t play with us.”

 

Jarrod and Audra exchanged a strained look.  Nicky had no idea that his wish might be granted and how upsetting that would be to the whole family.  It was Tom, however, who answered, “Don’t say that, Nicky.  You know you want a little brother or sister.  It won’t be much longer before Mamma will be able to play with us like before and Pappa said that this will probably be our last baby.  So quit whining.”

 

“Don’t whine,” Nicky’s eyes flashed.

 

“Yes, you do.  You’re such a baby,” Tom taunted.

 

“Not a baby!” Nicky’s fist balled up as he prepared to punch his big brother.

 

“Boys,” Jarrod used his firmest voice.  “That’s enough arguing.  Now let’s go downstairs so you can have your breakfast.”

 

Nicky thought Uncle Jarrod could sure sound like Pappa when he was tired of putting up with things, so he just nodded.  Tom supplied the “yes, sir.”  Audra balanced Lizzie V. on her hip and reached to take Nicky’s hand.  She knew it would be best to keep a little distance between the two little boys.  Nicky was known to throw an occasional punch when he thought adults weren’t looking.  Tom obediently took the hand that Jarrod offered but frowned as they walked past his parents’ closed bedroom door.  Just as they reached the foot of the stairs, a knock at the door interrupted Audra’s cheerful recital of what all they were going to do today.  She exchanged a quick look with Jarrod who calmly told Tom to go along with his aunt.  He opened the door to a tall balding gentleman carrying a physician’s bag.

 

“Dr. Anderson?” when the other man nodded Jarrod continued, “I’m Jarrod Barkley, Peter’s brother.  Please come in.”

 

“I understand that Mrs. Barkley is in distress,” the doctor’s clipped Bostonian accent brought forth memories of Jarrod’s years at Harvard.   “Where is she?”

 

“Upstairs, in her bedroom.  My brother is with her,” Jarrod gestured toward the second floor.  The doctor immediately started up the stairs; Jarrod hesitated for a moment and then followed.  Dr. Anderson walked directly to Peter and Samantha’s bedroom and tapped lightly on the closed door; however, he didn’t wait for an answer.  When he pushed the door open, Jarrod saw that Peter still sat on the bed beside Sam, one hand holding hers, the other gently stroking her hair.

 

The doctor walked briskly to the bed and reached out to take Samantha’s hand from Peter, “I understand you’re having problems this morning, Mrs. Barkley.”

 

“Yes, I’ve been having pains,” Samantha whispered.

 

“How many?  How far apart?”

 

Samantha’s chin trembled a little as she whispered, “Four or five.  I’m not sure.  One woke me up.  I think I’ve had three since then.”

 

“The last one was 25 minutes ago,” Peter had given up his place beside Samantha but he hovered protectively.  “It lasted about a minute and a half.”

 

“Nothing since then?”

 

“No, I’ve gotten her to sip some brandy and she’s calmed down a good bit.”

 

“I’m right here, Peter,” Samantha eyes flashed for a moment.

 

“Sorry, honey,” Jarrod had never heard his brother sound so truly contrite.

 

“Mrs. Barkley?” the doctor prompted her.

 

Samantha took a deep breath, “It’s my fault.  We went to the theater last night . . . a family outing.  Peter warned me I was doing too much but I wouldn’t listen.  I thought this would be my last social event until after the baby arrived.  I got upset with someone who spoke to us; it was such a silly thing.  But I didn’t sleep well last night; I don’t think I fell asleep until sometime early in the morning.  And then the pains woke me up.”

 

“Hard?”

 

“Harder than they were before.”

 

“How did they compare to your other labors?”

 

“About as hard but they didn’t last as long and were further apart.”

 

“All right, if you gentlemen could step out please so I can complete my examination,” the doctor said brusquely.

 

“I’ll stay,” Peter said firmly.

 

“Peter, please,” Samantha blinked back her tears.

 

Jarrod placed a gentle hand on his brother’s shoulder, “C’mon, Peter, lets step out into the hallway.”

 

Peter pressed his lips together and allowed his big brother to guide him into the hallway.  He refused to move more than just a few feet from the doorway and grumbled, “Don’t know why I can’t stay.  It’s not like I haven’t seen every inch of her body.”

 

“It might be that Samantha is a little uncomfortable about you watching another man examine her,” Jarrod said gently.

 

“Oh,” Peter flushed. “Hadn’t thought about that.”

 

The two brothers stood silently in the hallway, arms crossed and rocking on their heels.  The minutes drug by and Jarrod could tell that Peter was just barely holding onto his patience.  Finally, the older brother spoke, “Samantha’s had problems before?”

 

Peter looked up, guilt coloring his face, “Yeah.”

 

“What happened?” the lawyer gently asked.

 

Peter sighed deeply, “Last fall, after we came back to Frisco from Stockton, Sam had a really bad bout of morning sickness, worst ever.  It set her off to having pains.  Scared us both, nothing like this had ever happened.  We sent for Dr. Vanders, but by the time he got here the pains had stopped.  He recommended that Sam see Dr. Anderson.  He’s a specialist on women’s . . . umm . . . things.”

 

“I see,” Jarrod said diplomatically.  “What did he say?”

 

“Told us that he couldn’t know for sure.  It was possible that everything would go on smoothly, but there was a chance that Sam wouldn’t be able to carry the baby.”

 

“Has she had problems before . . . I mean when she was carrying the other children?”

 

Peter shrugged, “You know how she has bad morning sickness . . . has had it with every one of them.  She didn’t really have any problems carrying either Tom or Nicky, but Nicky’s birth was real hard on her.  And then, you know, she had Lizzie V. a month early.”

 

“I thought that was because of her taking such a long train trip so late in her confinement,” the older brother frowned.

 

“That’s what we thought at the time, but Dr. Anderson said that Nicky’s birth may have made it so that Sam can’t carry a baby to full term.”

 

“So, what happened at Thanksgiving?” In response to Peter’s deepening frown, Jarrod explained, “Samantha said she thought you were in the clear because there hadn’t been any problems since Thanksgiving.  What happened?”

 

Peter spoke through tight lips, “One morning, right before Thanksgiving, there was bleeding.”

 

“That’s why you didn’t come Thanksgiving, isn’t it?  You made up the story about being tied up with business, didn’t you?” the lawyer pressed.

 

“Sam didn’t want to worry the family.  She said there was no need in getting everyone all upset over something they couldn’t do anything about.  There was no way we could travel at Thanksgiving, so I had Barton tell you all I had business I had to conduct that just couldn’t wait.”

 

“And Christmas?  You let Sam come to Stockton by herself?  When she’d already had problems?”

 

“I didn’t let her do anything,” Peter said bitterly.  “Ah, we had a huge fight about it.  I didn’t want us to try it.  I made arrangements so that I would have real business to keep me busy, to give us an excuse, but Sam wouldn’t hear of it.  She said she wasn’t going to disappoint Mother again . . . that the boys were so looking forward to Christmas at the ranch.  I forbade her to go . . . big mistake on my part.  She informed me that she and the children were celebrating Christmas in Stockton.  If I cared to join them once I finished my work, then that would be fine.  I couldn’t believe she went against me.  She made arrangements for the trip all on her own.  I kept thinking she wouldn’t go through with it but she went right along with her plans.  Neither Barton nor Gene knew what to do.  I think Gene was the one who figured out that Sam wasn’t backing down and decided it would be best that at least he travel with her.  Barton went along with him.  I didn’t even go to the station to see them off.  The whole day I sweated bullets worrying about her.  That’s why I rode in that night, I was so afraid that the train trip might have started the pains again.  You don’t know how relieved I was to see you all calmly sitting around, laughing and talking.”

 

“And everything’s been all right since Thanksgiving?”

 

Peter nodded, “Until this morning.  The doctor did tell her to take it easy, to try to stay off her feet as much as possible, but that’s been really hard for Sam.  She’s always been so active and she feels like she has to do everything for the boys and Lizzie V.  But she has been trying.  She really wants this baby.  She keeps talking about a little sister for Lizzie, about how much she missed growing up without a sister to share secrets with, how she wants Lizzie to have that chance.”

 

The opening door halted Peter’s words.  Both brothers shifted as the doctor stepped into the hallway and pulled the door closed behind him.  “Well,” Peter had come to the end of his patience.

 

“Things seem to have settled.  I think the pains may have ended . . . for now,” the doctor pursed his lips.

 

“For now,” Peter repeated.

 

“As I told you back in November, Mr. Barkley, I’m not very hopeful that your wife is going to be able to successfully deliver this baby,” Dr. Anderson’s voice was firm but his eyes were gentle.  “I’m sorry, I think that the pains have just halted temporarily.  I think they will resume.  As I described to you in November, the opening to Mrs. Barkley’s womb has begun to dilate.”

 

“Has her water broken?” Peter’s voice was grim.

 

“No, the membranes are still intact; however, you know when they do rupture we will have to take the baby immediately.  The risks are just too great.  Puerperal fever can take your wife, Mr. Barkley,” the doctor said flatly.

 

“Isn’t there something we can do?” Peter knew how Samantha was going to react to this news.

 

“Your wife asked the same thing.  You can try bed rest, but I don’t think it’s going to stop nature.”

 

“How long?” Peter asked and then repeated when the doctor frowned, “How long will she have to stay in bed?”

 

“Until the baby delivers.”

 

Peter took a deep breath and let it out slowly, “So we’re talking until April.”

 

“That would be what we would like, but I don’t think we’ll be that lucky.”

 

“But, if she can make it to April, then the baby will make it?” Peter swallowed hard.

 

“Well, the odds improve greatly, but given that she has already started to dilate, I don’t think you are going to be able to forestall the labor for almost three months,” Dr. Anderson shook his head.  “But, for now, I am prescribing bed rest.  Your wife is very emotional about this, which is understandable.  However, you need to see if you can’t keep her calm and in bed for at least a week.  After that, well after that, we’ll just have to let nature take its course.”

 

“All right,” Peter’s voice was grim.

 

“I’ll check back early next week.  If the contractions return, send for me.  And, of course, when her water breaks, send for me immediately,” the doctor hesitated.  “I’m very sorry, Mr. Barkley.  As I said in November, I think that you and Mrs. Barkley need to be happy with the three children that you have.”

 

“I understand, doctor.  Thank you for coming this morning.  If you don’t mind, I’d like to be with my wife.  I’ll ask my brother to see you out,” Jarrod watched as the muscle in Peter’s jaw twitched.  His little brother was working hard to control his emotions.

 

“Doctor,” Jarrod gestured toward the stairs.

 

Dr. Anderson glanced back over his shoulder as Peter stepped back into the bedroom.  He offered Jarrod a tired smile, “I can see myself out, Mr. Barkley.  If I were you, I would encourage both your brother and your sister-in-law to get some rest.  I’m afraid they will need their strength later.”

 

“Thank you, doctor,” Jarrod nodded, his eyes focused on the closed bedroom door.  He had no idea what he should do.

 

 

 

Chapter 18

 

Jarrod quickly discarded his plans to work at his office.  He really didn’t have anything pressing to do.  He had made up the work as an excuse for staying in San Francisco the extra day.  He thought he would help Audra with the children, but she seemed to have things well under control.  He watched in quiet amazement at the way she kept all three entertained through much of the morning.  Of course, all those hours working at the orphanage probably had taught her all sorts of tricks for keeping children occupied.  Jarrod had realized at some point that he needed to get word to Barton that Peter would not be in his office today.  He mentioned it to Audra and she informed him that she had sent Sean to the bank earlier and that she expected Barton to be by at lunch to check on things.

 

And then he thought he might need to send word over to Eugene in Berkeley . . . just to let him know what was going on.  But Audra explained that she had told Sean to have Barton get a telegram off to Eugene.  She was sure their youngest brother would make his way across the bay this evening to check on Samantha.  “He’s so close to her, you know,” she added.  Jarrod wasn’t sure he knew that.

 

And he didn’t need to tell Samantha and Peter to get some rest.  He had peeked in once and found them both sound asleep.  Peter still dressed in his rumpled evening clothes lay on the top of the bedcovers, his arms wrapped around his tiny wife.  She had her fingers interlaced with his, his hands held tight against her chest.  One would have never imagined that there had been any angry words between them last night.  Oh, God, how would he ever help his little brother and only sister-in-law when this terrible thing happened to them?  Oh, the terrible loss they would feel, that they all would feel.  He was amazed that a baby that wasn’t even born could so tug at your heart.

 

He hadn’t forgotten his luncheon date with Christiana, but he felt guilty about leaving Audra with the children.  She, however, shooed him out, saying she, Carlotta, and Marie could take care of the children and Barton would be along shortly to help entertain the boys for a bit.  “I’ll check on Peter and Samantha, too, to see if they’re hungry,” she had added.  He had cautioned her not to wake them, that the doctor had said they both would need their strength.  She had smiled indulgently.  He worried so about everyone.

 

Jarrod went to Christiana’s shop as much to let her know what was happening with Samantha as to enjoy her company.  She had another customer in the shop when he arrived, someone whom she had obviously just done a portrait of.  Christiana was going over her price list with the young woman and explaining when the pictures would be ready.  She glanced at Jarrod and favored him with a quick smile as she concluded her business.  He wandered over to where she had the landscapes displayed in her tiny storefront.  Despite the grimness of the day, he smiled softly as he recognized the picture taken up on the North Ridge of the twisted tree.  He knew that place well, had lazed under those branches as a boy, had poured over his law books when he came home from Harvard that one summer, and even now would occasionally ride up there just to count the clouds and clear his mind during a particularly difficult case.  That was the picture he wanted for his office here in San Francisco.  And the one of the ships in the bay, their sails flying in the breeze, that was the one for the Stockton office.

 

“Well,” Christiana’s voice carried a smile, “did you find something that you liked?”

 

“Oh, yes, indeed,” he gestured to his two choices.

 

“Interesting choices,” she chewed her lip.  “May I ask, is there a particular reason why you chose those?”

 

“Well, I like them,” he teased, but then added, “I want the one from the ranch for my office here, so I have something very tangible to remind me of home when I’m working here.  And, the one of the bay, well, that’s for the Stockton office so that while I’m working there I’ll have a very tangible reminder of the city that I love.”

 

“Interesting,” she smiled at him.  “A man of two worlds . . . and who wants to never lose touch of either.”

 

He shrugged and grinned a little self-consciously.  She studied him for a moment and then frowned, “Is something wrong, Jarrod?”

 

He took a deep breath; he had thought that he would wait until after lunch to tell her the news.  But, of course, her sharp eyes had seen his inner turmoil.  “I went by to check on Peter and Samantha early this morning,” he started.

 

“Always Pappy,” she teased gently but reached out to touch his arm.  She could almost feel his anxiety.

 

“I talked with Peter for just a bit, he explained about Mrs. Pearce, I was convinced that he and Samantha would clear things up between them, and then Samantha came downstairs,” he swallowed hard.  “She was having pains.”

 

Christiana’s grip on his arm tightened, “Oh, dear, not again.  How is she?”

 

“You knew?  You knew about the other times?” it was his turn to frown.

 

She nodded, “We had already become good friends by the time, she had, umm, had her problems in November.  She told me about the other.  The doctor wasn’t very encouraging then.”

 

“He wasn’t too encouraging this morning either,” Jarrod murmured.  “He seems to think it’ll only be a matter of time before . . . .”

 

Christiana cringed, knowing the words that Jarrod couldn’t quite say.  Losing a child, she thought, that must be the worst pain.  Struggling to fill in the silence she said softly, “I was so relieved when her trip to Stockton went so smoothly.  She didn’t even let Peter know how afraid she was that the train trip would set things off again.”

 

“Well, why in heavens name did she make the trip?” anger made his voice sharp.

 

But she knew the sharpness wasn’t directed at her, “Because she knew how disappointed your mother would be . . . and the children.  Samantha decided to put the child’s fate in God’s hands . . . and He didn’t let her down.”

 

“That time,” Jarrod whispered.  “Why didn’t they just tell us about the problems?  We’re all adults; we would have adjusted our Christmas plans so that Samantha didn’t need to travel.”

 

“Samantha didn’t want your family to worry about something you had no control over,” Christiana tried to explain.

 

“That’s something that family does.”

 

She sighed softly.  She wasn’t sure if she could explain it to him.  She wasn’t sure she really understood.  “For so long, it’s just been Peter and Samantha, taking care of each other and their children . . . .”

 

“That’s not the case any more,” he interrupted, strangely hurt by this statement.

 

“I know . . . and she knows it, too.  It’s just that old habits are hard to break . . . and she really hates the idea of being an imposition to anyone.”

 

“Sam is not an imposition to anyone,” the anger was still there.  “She is a woman carrying a child, my brother’s child.  We all want to take care of her.  That is our responsibility, our right as her family.”

 

Christiana sighed softly.  He was correct, of course, but . . . she didn’t know if she dared to share this with Jarrod.  She was, after all, Samantha’s friend first.  “Samantha,” she started, “Samantha is a little, umm, intimidated by your mother.”

 

Jarrod rolled his eyes in exasperation, “She told Nick that once; and she’s just ridiculous.  Mother adores Samantha . . . she’s so proud of her, what a wonderful mother she is, what a wonderful wife she is to Peter.”

 

“But Samantha can’t imagine that your mother ever inconvenienced anyone with her . . . when she was carrying her children.  Sam just feels like she’s not as strong as your mother . . . that because of that, because she can’t just sail through this, she’s a burden to you all.”

 

“She’s not a burden,” Jarrod snapped.

 

Christiana reached out to gently pat his arm, “I know that you feel that way, that your whole family feels that way, but I’m telling you how Samantha feels . . . however ridiculous that might seem to you.”

 

It was Jarrod’s turn to sigh, “So what are we supposed to do?”

 

“Samantha’s the one who’s facing the most in all of this.  I think that all any of us can do is what she asks of us.  That’s what Peter will do.”

 

Thinking of his little brother, knowing how he loved his wife, how he would indeed do whatever Samantha wished, Jarrod nodded, “You’re right, of course.  Samantha should be our chief concern.”

 

“I’m sure you want to get back to the house to check on Samantha,” Christiana said softly.  “Here, let me wrap up your pictures so that you can take them with you.”

 

“No, actually, I told my little brother I had a luncheon engagement with a delightful young woman, and I know that he’ll tattle on me to our mother if I don’t honor my commitments,” he smiled.

 

“Really, it’s all right, Jarrod.  I know you’re concerned.”

 

“You don’t want to get me in trouble with my mother, do you,” he teased.

 

She laughed and shook her head, “Of course not.  I would hate to think that I was the cause of her having to dig out her reserve of wooden spoons.”

 

“Thank you for sparing me,” he said seriously.  “So, can you leave now?  I thought I would leave my horse here and we’d take a hack up to the area near the courthouse.  There’s a little restaurant that I particularly enjoy there.  Don’t worry about the pictures now.  We’ll take care of those when we come back.”

 

“Well, since I’ve had a good morning, business-wise, I don’t see why I shouldn’t be able to close up now,” she nodded at him.  “Give me just a few minutes to lock everything up.”

 

He smiled and returned her nod.  He kept himself busy examining some of the other pictures she had displayed around the room, but he surreptitiously watched her as she closed up her business.  He was glad to see that she locked up her cash drawer in a little safe under her counter.  He worried a little about how she handled her cash; he didn’t think it was safe for her to have much money stored in the place that she lived.  It invited a robbery.  He wondered how often she made a bank deposit and tried to think of a way to divert their conversation in that direction.  He just wanted to be sure that she was being as careful as possible.  While her shop and living quarters were on a nice enough block of storefronts, they weren’t far from the rougher neighborhoods of Jackson Square.  He worried a little about that, too.  Maybe he could talk her into looking for a place in a safer neighborhood.  Before he could pause to analyze when and why he had become so concerned about where Christiana Wilson had her shop and how she secured her money, she was there before him, her deep brown eyes crinkling in just the way he enjoyed.  Smiling back at her, he helped her with her cloak and ushered her through the door.  He took note of how she locked up the front door and considered encouraging her to install a second lock.  He would talk with her later about that, he decided.  For now, he just wanted to enjoy lunch.

 

By some unspoken agreement, they put aside talk of Samantha and Peter.  Instead, Jarrod questioned her on her travels around California and her plans.  He learned quickly that she was, by nature, an opportunist . . . not in the derogatory way but in the very best sense of the word.  She took advantage of every opportunity she had to photograph the world around her.  Just as she had used the job to shoot the Barkley family portrait to get pictures of a working ranch and some of the scenery in the area, she used the proximity of other paying assignments to get her other unique locales for her landscapes.  He had been very right; she was an astute businesswoman.  She, in turn, questioned him about some of his cases.  He was surprised by her knowledge of the law and, she admitted, her father and oldest brother were lawyers so she had grown up in a household where the law was often discussed.  Another little glimpse into her past, Jarrod thought.  He wondered where she was from but would wait to let her volunteer whatever information she wanted.  As they were eating their desserts, Jarrod reflected that it had been one of the most delightful luncheon dates he had ever had.  Date?  The word, even as it crossed his mind, surprised him.  He didn’t realize that the corner of his mouth curled up.  Yes, he was on a date . . . with a young woman whom he found both interesting and beautiful.

 

“What?” Christiana demanded.

 

“Hmm?” he played innocent.

 

“Why are you smiling?”

 

“Because I’m enjoying myself,” he said honestly.  “What about you?”

 

She hesitated for a moment and then smiled too, “Yes, yes, I am enjoying myself.  I do have a favor to ask of you, however.”

 

“Anything,” he said instantly.

 

She laughed at his intensity, “Be careful what you promise.  However, this time, you’re safe.  I was just wondering if we could stop at this bakery on Third.   They make the best croissants.  Sam just loves them.  I thought I would pick some up and send them back with you as a little present to her.”

 

“By all means, let’s pick some up; however, why don’t you come back to Peter and Samantha’s with me so you can give them to her.”

 

Christiana shook her head, “That’s too much trouble for you, and I’m not sure that Samantha will be up to seeing any visitors.”

 

“It’s no trouble for me,” he replied.  “And you’re not a visitor; you’re one of Samantha’s closest friends here in San Francisco.  You knew about her problems long before I did.  I know she would like to see you.  And if she’s not feeling up to visiting or is still resting you can leave the pastries and I’ll bring you back to your store.”

 

“It’s so much trouble,” she repeated.

 

“My horse is at your place; I have to get him anyway.  And I need to complete my purchases.  We’ll just be taking the long way back.”

 

She tried to think of a way to counter his logic, but his twinkling blue eyes made it so difficult for her to say “no” . . . not that she really wanted to.

 

 

 

Continued…