Star Crossed

Chapters 6-10

by Stacey

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 6

“All right, boys, let’s see if we can be a little more civilized when we eat our breakfast this morning,” Samantha instructed her sons as she led them toward the dining room.

“What’s cissilied, Mamma?” Nicky asked as his Uncle Jarrod reached down and lifted him into his chair.

“It means be quiet,” his older brother said shortly as he climbed into his chair by himself.

“Well, that’s one interpretation,” Jarrod laughed and reached over to ruffle the boy’s blonde hair. “And I think that particular interpretation would make your mamma happy.”

Before Samantha could agree with her brother-in-law, a booming voice almost rattled the china, “Morning, everybody!”

“Uncle Nick,” Nicky shouted and bounded off his chair.

“Hey, boy,” Nick grabbed up his nephew and swung him high in the air bringing forth another loud shout and laugh from the little boy.

“So much for being civilized,” Tom remarked dryly as he picked up his fork.

Jarrod was not too successful in smothering his chuckle which drew a stern look from Samantha. “Don’t encourage them,” she said firmly. “Tom, put that fork down. We need to say grace. Nick, please put Nicky back in his chair. We’re trying very hard to use better manners this morning.”

“Oh,” Nick looked a little abashed. He was very use to Mother’s scoldings, but it was highly unusual for Sam to use such a sharp tone with him. He wondered what he had done to get on her bad side; he thought that they had parted in pretty good spirits last night. He quickly put Nicky back in his chair and tied a napkin around his nephew’s neck. He was just hurrying to his own chair when Audra came in carrying little Lizzie V. “Mornin’,” he murmured.

“Good morning, everybody. Doesn’t our little angel look beautiful this morning,” Audra beamed.

“Lizzie V. looks beautiful every morning,” Nick replied quickly, hoping to garner a few points with Sam.

Samantha smiled wanly and then turned to address Silas, who had entered carrying Lizzie’s high chair, “Silas, really, it’ll be easier if we just feed her in the kitchen. She makes such a mess.”

“It’ll clean up, Miss Samantha, and, besides, you know Mrs. Barkley always likes to have the whole family around the breakfast table. I remember when she had a high chair on either side of her when Miss Audra and Mr. Eugene were both babies and she’d take turns feeding them,” the old man smiled.

Samantha personally wasn’t sure what having a baby at the table added to breakfast conversation but she was too tired to argue the point. She thought a little grimly that it was amazing that her mother-in-law didn’t even have to be here to exercise her influence. All she said, however, was, “Tom, please say grace for us.”

The little boy quickly bowed his head and rushed through a general thanks for food and family. After a rousing “amen” from Nicky which was greeted by chuckles from his uncles and a roll of the eyes from his mother, the family began to pass the platters of food. Jarrod turned to Nick to ask about his schedule for the morning, to see which one of them should ride to town to check the telegraph office, and Audra immediately began feeding Lizzie V. None of them noticed Samantha pressing a hand against her forehead. When she suddenly murmured, “Oh, my god” and shoved herself back from the table and rushed toward the paned doors that led to the porch, they all sat stunned for a moment. Almost simultaneously, all three Barkley siblings jumped to their feet and rushed after their sister-in-law, whom they found leaning over the porch railing and retching violently into the bushes.

“It’s all right, honey, we’re right here,” Jarrod firmly held Samantha by her shoulders, appalled at the force of the sickness that was nearly doubling her over.

“I better go to town and get the doc,” Nick looked over Samantha’s bent head into Jarrod’s eyes.

It was Samantha, however, who answered. “No,” she managed to gasp out before another wave of nausea hit her, doubling her over the porch railing again.

“Honey,” Jarrod crooned softly, knowing she must be so frightened. “It’s going to be all right. We’ll get the doctor and he’ll take care of you.”

She shook her head and choked out, “No, I don’t need a doctor.”

“Sam, it might be the influenza,” Audra said the word that the others were avoiding. “We need to get you the best care possible.”

But Samantha shook her head as she again bent over the railing. She was now dry heaving so hard that she was trembling in Jarrod’s arms. “Not influenza,” she whispered when at last the siege ended.

“Sam, honey, let’s get the doctor just to be sure,” Jarrod squeezed her shoulders gently.

He was shocked to see a smile on her lips when she tilted her head up to look at him, “It’s not influenza. It’s just the newest Barkley making his or her presence known.”

Her words confused him and he glanced up at Nick to see if he had a clue what Samantha meant. Nick shrugged his shoulders, afraid that maybe Sam was already caught in the delusions caused by the illness. It was Audra who understood immediately, “Oh, Sam, another baby? That’s wonderful!”

Samantha managed to hold onto her smile for a few moments as she nodded at her sister and then the nausea forced her to turn back toward the bushes. When this bout eased up, she managed to whisper, “Audra, would you see to the children?”

“Of course,” her sister-in-law answered quickly. “Don’t worry about them at all. I’ll take care of them.”

Samantha nodded and leaned over the porch railing again as her stomach did another flipflop. Audra turned back toward the dining room and discovered Tom and Nicky standing in the doorway, both with frightened expressions.

“Is Mamma sick like Uncle Gene?” Tom asked in a tiny voice.

“No, darling,” Audra said quickly, placing one arm around his shoulder and reaching down to gather Nicky up with her other arm. “Her tummy is just a little upset this morning, but she doesn’t have the influenza, I promise you. Now let’s all go back in and finish our breakfasts.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tom said hesitantly, turning to look at his mother again. Only when she smiled at him and winked did he allow his Aunt Audra to take him inside.

Samantha managed to hold onto her smile just long enough for Audra to get the two little boys inside the house and close the paned doors. She then turned back to the bushes and gagged and coughed as she gave into her rolling stomach. She didn’t realize how her groans tore at the hearts of the two men who stood with her. For a moment, she rested her head on the porch railing and then she forced herself to straighten up, “Do you mind if we walk down the porch a little ways? The smell, the smell of the food really bothers me.”

“Sure, Sam, let’s walk down here. Why don’t you sit down for minute and then we’ll get you up to bed?” Nick said as he took one of her elbows while Jarrod took the other.

“I don’t need to go to bed, Nick,” Samantha protested as she allowed them to ease her into a chair. “It’s just morning sickness. It’ll pass after a bit.”

“Sam, honey, I don’t think this is morning sickness,” Jarrod brushed a hand across her sweaty brow. “It’s just too bad for morning sickness.”

“Trust me, Jarrod, I know it’s morning sickness,” she whispered.

“Look, Sam,” Nick’s concern made his voice sound much sharper than he intended. He cringed and tried to be gentler, “Look, I’ve seen men hungover from a three-day drunk that didn’t sound as bad as you do. Ain’t no way that this is just morning sickness.”

“Peter describes it as me trying to hack up my toenails,” Samantha knew that her very unladylike gagging was unnerving her brothers-in-law, but there wasn’t much she could do about it.

“It’s been this way for you before?” Jarrod was stunned. “With the other children?”

“Yes,” Samantha swayed a little as her stomach threatened to overwhelm her again.

“Easy there,” Nick put a strong arm around her shoulder.

“Watch it, Nick,” Samantha warned. “I might just throw up on you.”

“Girl, the way you’re dry heaving I don’t expect you’ve got anything left to throw up,” he replied and squeezed her shoulder gently.

“You’re probably right,” she laughed softly and then curled her arms over her jumpy stomach and drew up a knee in hopes of easing the queasiness.

“Sam, honey, I can’t believe it was this bad before,” Jarrod shook his head. “Why in the world would you and Peter even consider having another child if you were this sick?”

“Oh, Jarrod,” she shook her head, “our beautiful babies are well worth six or eight weeks of me trying to throw up my toenails every morning.”

“Six or eight weeks!” Nick’s shout drew a sharp look from Jarrod. “Damn, Sam, you can’t be sick like this every morning for six or eight weeks. You’ll just shrink to nothing!”

“It’s just morning sickness, Nick. I’ll be able to eat lunch and dinner. I promise.”

“Sam, you’re trembling,” Jarrod gently rubbed her upper arm.

“Oh, the heaving always leaves me a little shaky is all,” she smiled at him.

“Nick, go get one of the throws Mother has in the sitting room,” the oldest brother directed.

“Sure,” Nick bolted from the porch, glad to be able to get away from Sam for just a moment so he could gather his thoughts.

Jarrod absently took out his handkerchief and wiped the beads of perspiration from Samantha’s brow, “Honey, are you sure this is morning sickness?”

Samantha smiled at her bachelor brother-in-law, “I’m sure, Jarrod. Remember, I’m very experienced in this. There’s a few other signs . . . and they’re all there.”

As Nick came back on the porch with the throw and the two brothers spread it carefully over their sister-in-law, Jarrod gently asked, “So what does Peter do when you’re so sick?”

“Oh, he holds me and wipes my face and covers me up when I’m shivering and looks very guilty.”

“Damn certain he should look guilty,” Nick snapped, “given this is all his fault.”

His sister-in-law gave a very unladylike snort, “Oh, Nick, it takes two, you know. It isn’t always Peter’s idea.”

The thought that Pete’s wife was the one who occasionally initiated their relations completely hogtied Nick’s tongue. He had always considered Pete a lucky man for having found Sam. He guessed he didn’t realize how lucky.

“Well,” Jarrod reached over to wipe her face again and pat the hand that was clenching the throw, “I can do everything but the guilty look.”

“Jarrod, I’ll be all right,” she shook her head. “You don’t have to be my nursemaid.”

“I’m not your nursemaid but I am going to look after you until I can turn you back over to that rascal little brother of mine.”

She started to protest again, but Silas arrived on the porch bearing a bucket and a cup of cracked ice, “Here you go, Miss Samantha. Miss Audra told me that you’re not feeling too good this morning. Here’s some ice for you to suck on. I remember Mrs. Barkley doing that when she was a might under the weather when she was carrying Miss Audra and Mr. Eugene. You stay out here on the porch so you don’t have to smell breakfast. Maybe later you’d like me to fix you some dry toast and a little weak tea. I remember Mrs. Barkley could usually hold that down.”

Samantha tiredly nodded her head, surprised that “Mrs. Barkley” ever showed any signs of weakness when she was carrying her babies. In her mind’s eye, Samantha had always seen her mother-in-law as completely invincible, probably out chopping wood and herding cattle when she was nine months pregnant. Certainly, she never imagined that Victoria had ever inconvenienced her husband by succumbing to bouts of morning sickness. Pondering this new information, she selected a small piece of ice from the cup and slipped it into her mouth. She closed her eyes and tried to will her stomach to quit its gyrations. Samantha missed the worried look that passed between her two brothers-in-law.

* * * * * * * *

“Eugene, darling, please take just one piece of ice,” Victoria coaxed the rapidly melting chip into her youngest son’s mouth. “Just hold it in your mouth. The cool water will make your throat feel better, I promise.”

Gene tossed his fevered head and tried to avoid the second chip that his mother was trying to slip into his mouth. Didn’t she understand that he didn’t want anything except to be left alone? He just ached all over . . . even his eyeballs ached.

“Please, Eugene, just a little more. We have to start getting more liquid down you,” his mother said firmly.

“No, Ma, please,” he begged. His plea was cut short by a ragged cough. He felt his mother’s cool hand on his forehead, but he didn’t have the energy to open his eyes. “Ma, where’s Jarrod? Why isn’t he here?”

“Jarrod’s at the ranch, darling,” she took the cloth and gently wiped his face and chest. “He’s taking care of Peter’s family. Heath came with me to help take care of you. You’re going to be just fine. We’ll see to it. But you must try to drink a little more. That’s the only way you’re going to get to feeling better.”

“No,” his voice wavered. “Just want to sleep.”

“C’mon, Gene,” Heath slipped behind his brother and made him sit up. “You need to do as Mother says, little brother. Just take a few sips of juice and then she’ll let you sleep. I promise.”

“Don’t make me, Heath,” the young man mumbled. “Just don’t feel like it.”

“I know, Gene, but you gotta. Mother’s not gonna let you rest until you do as she asks. Now just be a good boy and drink down some juice for her,” the older brother cajoled.

“Not a boy,” Gene protested weakly.

“Sure you are, little brother. We’re all Mother’s good boys, even Jarrod,” Heath soothed. “Now drink down.”

Gene finally complied and took a few sips of the juice that Victoria held but another coughing fit cut off this attempt. As the dry coughs racked her son’s body and he put a hand to his forehead and whispered “head hurts,” Victoria let her shoulders slump in defeat. Why couldn’t she get Eugene to drink more? She had to; maybe she should have brought Jarrod. He was the one whom Eugene would listen to. She didn’t realize how sad her expression had become until Heath laid Eugene back on the pillow and reached across the bed to hug her, “It’s all right, Mother. We’ll try again in just a little bit. We’ll get more down him, I promise.”

“You’re right, dear. He just needs to rest a little and then he’ll be able to drink more,” she couldn’t even make her voice sound convincing.

“Look, Mother, while he’s sleeping, you go lie down and try to take a nap,” Heath urged.

“I’m all right,” she shook her head. “When Peter wakes up, I’ll go lie down. I promise. I just think that two of us need to be with Gene right now . . . until he starts drinking and resting better.”

“You’re being awful stubborn about this,” he teased gently. “Thought it was the Barkley side that was so mule-headed.”

She smiled softly, “I think it must have rubbed off on me.”

“Maybe so,” he came around the bed and put an arm around her and held her close.

She allowed him to comfort her for a few minutes and then her motherly instincts returned, “Heath, how are you feeling?”

“Fine,” he was a little surprised at her words.

“I shouldn’t have let you come with me,” she sighed.

“Now, Mother, we agreed that it would be better if three of us were here to take care of Gene. And you know it was best for Jarrod and Audra to stay to help Sam.”

“I know, but you are always so susceptible to getting colds and coughs. I just don’t think it was a good idea for us to let you be purposely exposed to the influenza,” she turned to look up into his face, searching for any signs of the illness.

But Heath’s face still had its healthy tanned glow and his ocean blue eyes were clear. He protested, “I’m not that sickly, Mother.”

“You’ve had at least one bad cough and cold every winter that you’ve been with us,” she replied sharply. “Last winter it almost turned into pneumonia because you were too stubborn to slow down. I’m just sure Howard will have a fit when he finds out I allowed you to come where there is an epidemic.”

“Allowed me to come,” Heath couldn’t help but chuckle. “And just what were you gonna do to stop me? Hogtie me? And if you want to worry about somebody other than Gene, why don’t you worry about Pete? He’s hardly gotten any sleep since he brought Gene here from school.”

“Peter’s always been my healthiest child,” Victoria replied swiftly. “Heavens, I can’t think of a half of dozen times that he was sick in bed when he was growing up. And he’s like your father; hardly needs any sleep. You and Jarrod are the ones I have to worry about the most. I have to watch you both to make sure you don’t work yourselves into a sickbed.”

Somehow pleased that she included him with her firstborn, Heath nonetheless tried to divert her thoughts from fretting over him, “How about Nick? What was it like raising him?”

“Nick wasn’t sick often but he was always getting hurt,” she shook her head. “Howard said once we should just put him on retainer until we got Nick raised, that it would be cheaper than paying for all the visits he had to make to the ranch to patch that boy up.” She smiled softly and then turned her eyes onto her son again, “Of course, since you’ve been at the ranch I’ve considered asking Howard if we couldn’t try the retainer approach now. Honestly, Heath Barkley, if you aren’t catching a cold and letting it go to pneumonia, you’re getting yourself hurt. I just wish you would be more careful.”

“I’ll try,” he promised but then added, “What about Audra? Was she sick much when she was a little girl?”

Victoria knew that Heath was just trying to get her to think about something other than Gene being sick and Heath possibly getting sick, but she also realized that he cherished any stories of the years when he wasn’t with the family. “No,” Victoria smiled. “She was much like Peter, very rarely sick and when she was she got over it quickly. Of course, any little sniffle she got, your father would just panic.”

“Really?” Heath grinned broadly.

“She was his little princess and he babied her something awful,” her eyes misted a little as she remembered all the times she had had to chastise Tom for being so overprotective of Audra. “Oh, he would fret about the boys, too, when they were sick . . . particularly Jarrod because we’d almost lost him to pneumonia when he was so little. But with Audra he wouldn’t even try to pretend he wasn’t worried. I used to have to chase him off just so I could take care of her.”

He chuckled at the thought and then allowed himself to ask, “And Gene? When he was little, how’d he do?”

“Gene’s a strong boy,” she said softly, her eyes sweeping over the supine figure of her youngest. “Stronger, I think, than any of us realize. He had one bad bout of croup when he was just a baby but other than when he and Audra had the measles, he was hardly ever sick and never very seriously. And, unlike Nick, he wasn’t always getting hurt.”

“Him and Audra were both sick with the measles? I bet that was some spotted mess,” he laughed softly.

“It was that. That was one of the few times that I remember your father rocking one of the boys. I was just so exhausted one night and your father insisted that I go to bed and get some rest, that he would see to Gene and Audra. I had some real doubts about his being able to handle two small children, but I was so tired that I thought if I could just get a few hours sleep everything would be better. When I went to bed, both children were sleeping well, but I guess shortly after I fell asleep Gene woke up, feverish and sick to his stomach. Your father took care of him. When I woke up and went in to check on them, your father was sitting in the rocking chair with Gene in his lap, rocking and humming to him. Gene was sound asleep, one hand clutching your father’s shirt. It was such a sweet scene.”

“How old was Gene?” Heath asked softly as he tried to imagine what it was to have a father to soothe you when you were sick. He had only known the ministrations of his mama and Rachel and Hannah. They had loved and cared for him, but he was sure that there was something special about having a strong man comfort you. A strong man who loved you. Even though he had taken heart at Pete’s statement that his father had loved his mother, Heath still wondered if the man would have loved him.

“Hmm, it was about a year after Peter had left, Gene’s first year in school. He would have been six and Audra eight,” Victoria studied her son’s face, wondering what he was thinking, what caused the sad, downward turn of his mouth. She started to question him but he intercepted her.

“And Gene came through it all right?” he asked.

“He came through it just fine,” she nodded.

“Expect he’s going to do the same with this.”

Victoria leaned into Heath’s strong shoulder and finally whispered, “I hope you’re right.”

Together they sat and watched the young man in the bed, hoping for some sign that he was improving.

Chapter 7

Samantha’s green eyes snapped with fury, “I cannot believe you two did this.” Her angry look moved between the two brothers. “This is just not acceptable. I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”

“Now, Sam,” Jarrod started, “we’re just worried about you.”

“Yeah, Sam, calm down. You’ll make yourself sick again,” Nick added.

“I am not making myself sick, Nick,” she retorted. “It’s morning sickness. I have no control over it, I promise you.”

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Nick sputtered. “I just meant that you don’t need to be getting all upset about this. It might just set off another round of you being sick.”

“It doesn’t work that way, Nick,” her eyes shot daggers at him.

His voice got louder, “How should I know. I’ve never been around a woman with supposed morning sickness.”

“It’s not supposed. It is morning sickness!”

“Now, Samantha,” Howard Merar finally interjected himself into the conversation. “I think that all these two brothers-in-law of yours want to do is to make sure that it is just morning sickness and nothing more serious.”

“It’s morning sickness,” she repeated firmly. “I do have experience in this.”

“Well, why don’t you and I go upstairs and we can talk a little and just be sure.”

Sam lost her temper entirely and began to tick off her symptoms on her fingers, “Look, I’m sure. I’ve missed my health, I’m tired all the time, I have to pee all the time, my breasts hurt, and now I have morning sickness. I know exactly what’s going on, and it has nothing to do with influenza or any other illness.”

Dr. Merar did his best to contain his smile as he watched the two oldest Barkley brothers turn bright red as their sister-in-law described a little too explicitly her pregnancy symptoms. “Well, that does sound pretty convincing, but I think that just to be sure we need to do a little examination,” he cocked his head and gave her his best “caring physician” look.

The look didn’t go far with Samantha, who rolled her eyes in disgust and then gathered up the skirt of her dress so that she could stomp upstairs.

“You boys wait here,” the doctor directed. “It won’t take but just a few minutes and I’ll let you know if it appears that Samantha’s diagnosis is correct.”

“Sure, doc, we’ll be here,” Nick mumbled.

He and Jarrod pointedly avoided looking at each other as they fidgeted beside the newel post. Finally Jarrod asked, “You want a drink?”

“Yeah, thought you’d never ask,” Nick eagerly abandoned the banister.

They stood together, fiddling with their drinks, glancing up the stairs. It seemed as if much more than a few minutes had passed before Dr. Merar finally came down the stairs. Both brothers immediately cornered him.

“Well,” Nick demanded. “It sure took you a long time. Is Sam sick?”

“I don’t think Samantha would appreciate us talking about her condition when she’s not present,” the doctor replied pointedly.

“Well, where the heck is she?” he snapped.

“She’ll be down in just a minute, Nick,” Dr. Merar sighed. “She’s having to dress.”

“Dress?” Nick frowned. “Oh, you mean you really had to examine her? I thought that you were just needing to talk with her.”

“We did talk but there’s a couple of physical signs that a physician can only ascertain during an examination,” the doctor explained.

“Well?” Jarrod asked.

An angry voice snapped, “I was right. I don’t know why you two couldn’t just believe me when I talk about something I know about. You didn’t need to drag the doctor out here.” Samantha came down the stairs just as angrily as she had gone up them.

“Now, Samantha,” it was the doctor who sought to calm her, “we talked about this upstairs. You’re stuck here with a couple of old bachelors who don’t know a thing about a woman in the family way. They’re bound to be a little skittish.”

“So she is, I mean, there is gonna be a baby? It’s just morning sickness?” Nick jammed his fists on his hips, not appreciating being called either an old bachelor or skittish.

“Well, you can’t be 100 percent certain until Samantha feels the baby move and that won’t be for a few more months. But, given what Samantha has told me and the physical examination that I did, I think she is probably very correct in her diagnosis. I believe you gentlemen will have a new niece or nephew next spring,” the doctor reached over to pat Samantha’s arm. He knew she was upset about having to undergo a physical examination; he had to do a little talking to convince her to allow it. Given that she may have been exposed to the influenza, he felt it was very important to determine if she might truly be pregnant. If she ended up suffering from influenza, this would be important to know.

“Doc, you don’t understand, she was real sick this morning. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone as sick as she was,” Nick insisted.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Samantha started.

But the doctor interrupted, “Now, Samantha has admitted to me that her doctor in New Orleans said she had the worst case of morning sickness he’s ever seen with both Nicky and Lizzie V. It seems as if she’s just destined to have a hard time of it for a few months.”

“But I always survive,” she wrinkled her nose at her husband’s two big brothers.

“However, it is important for the health of both Samantha and the baby that we be sure that Samantha doesn’t get dehydrated,” the doctor continued briskly. “Now I’ve told her that I want her to drink two glasses of milk after supper and then a large glass of water just before she goes to bed.”

“Which guarantees I’ll have to get up in the night at least twice,” Samantha sighed deeply.

“That just means maybe you’ll sleep a little later in the morning,” Dr. Merar smiled at her.

“Hmm, maybe,” she sighed again.

“Jarrod and I will make sure that she does just as you say, doc,” Nick said firmly. Jarrod backed him up with a nod of his head.

Samantha groaned, “Oh, wonderful! I’ve got two wardens now.”

* * * * * * * *

The loud rap at the door startled both Peter and Victoria. They exchanged a concerned look; the only one who had come to the door since Victoria and Heath had arrived was Bart . . . and he usually walked in and called for Peter. Everyone else had apparently noted Peter’s self-imposed quarantine and given the house a wide berth. Peter surrendered the sponge he was using to wipe down Gene’s upper body to his mother and headed toward the door. It was only a few moments before she heard his voice and steps as he returned to the sick room.

“Thanks so much for coming again, Dr. Vanders,” Peter led the way into the room. “I know you must be overwhelmed with house calls.”

“Actually, the outbreak has not been as bad as we feared,” the doctor said as he came in and set his bag on the table beside the bed. “This influenza doesn’t seem to be as virulent as some of the earlier rounds we’ve seen. Most people are only sick for a week or so and, thank goodness, after the last epidemic, our population is taking reasonable precautions. We appreciate businessmen like yourself, Mr. Barkley, who have voluntarily sent their workers home for a few days to help break the cycle.”

“Well, as you said, it seemed like a reasonable precaution,” Peter just shrugged. “So, there haven’t been any deaths?”

The doctor sadly shook his head, “Oh, there have been deaths. As always, it’s usually the very old and the very young who fall victim to such an illness. We also have lost some who just have weak lungs, either from years of working in the mines or years of fighting a myriad of respiratory infections. But, in general, the outbreak has been far less serious that was originally thought.”

His last words sent a look of panic across Victoria’s face. The doctor happened to glance up and see it, “Mrs. Barkley? Does your son have weakened lungs? I didn’t note anything in my first examination of him.”

“Not Eugene,” she shook her head. “Heath.”

“Heath?” Dr. Vanders looked at Peter now, fully aware of his first name.

“My other younger brother,” Peter explained. “He’s upstairs sleeping now. We’ve been taking shifts caring for Gene.”

“That’s a good approach,” the doctor nodded his head. “Hopefully, you caregivers also won’t get ill if you’re rested and eat well. So your other son has had problems in the past, Mrs. Barkley?”

She hesitated for only a moment, “He didn’t have the easiest of lives as a child, doctor. He didn’t receive the best of nourishment and when he was very small he worked in the mines as a charge boy.”

He could not mask the look of surprise that flew across his face, but he did manage to keep he voice calm, “And how old is he now?”

“He’s 25.”

“And his health now?”

“Generally very good, but he does seem to catch at least one bad cold and cough every winter. Last winter it almost went into pneumonia.”

“I see,” the doctor nodded, understanding fully her concern. He had to wonder, however, what a son of the Barkley family was doing working in the mines as a child. Certainly, they were an affluent, powerful family now. All he said, however, was, “Let me check Eugene and then I’ll check your other son.”

He spent a few moments listening to Eugene’s heart and lungs and then took his temperature. As he waited for the thermometer to register, he checked the young man’s pulse and then pinched the skin on the back of his hand. Frowning slightly, he removed the thermometer and studied it for a moment. Finally, he stood and motioned them out of the room.

His eyes moved from Victoria to Peter and back, “I am concerned about your son, Mrs. Barkley. I was hoping that he would be improving by now. His temperature is still up and he’s getting pretty dehydrated. I hear a little congestion in his lungs. It’s not too bad yet, but we really must get his temperature down. And you simply have got to get some liquids down him.”

“We’re trying, doctor,” Victoria tried to keep the quake out of her voice. “He’s fighting us on it.”

“You’re just going to have to be firm with him. I know all he wants to do is sleep, but that’s because of the fever. The dehydration is only going to make him more drowsy. It’s a vicious cycle. Wake him up and make him drink,” the doctor said firmly. “If you don’t, he’s not going to get better.”

“We understand, Dr. Vanders,” Peter nodded and put an arm around his mother. “We’ll get some liquids down him. What about his temperature?”

The doctor looked back at the sleeping young man, “Give another day of trying the cold water sponging. If that doesn’t work, I’d say you’re going to have to try submerging him in cold water. Don’t do ice water. That’ll be too much of a jolt to his heart. Again, thought, it’s critical that you get some fluids into him. He’s getting very dehydrated. His condition could worsen rapidly.”

“Is there anything else, doctor?” Victoria whispered.

“Watch his coughing. If he starts bringing up any blood, send for me again,” he studied her face for a moment. “I know what I’ve said is frightening. I still think your son has a good chance of fully recovering, but we have got to start seeing some improvement soon.”

She sighed and then raised her chin and said firmly, “We’re going to get him through this, doctor.”

He gently patted her arm, “Work first on getting him to drink more. If you can do that, then I think the temperature will come down and, if we’re lucky, we’ll have him on the road to recovery before his lungs have a chance to become too infected. Now, I’ll go up and check your other son, all right?”

“Yes, thank you, doctor,” she nodded again. “Peter, would you go with the doctor? I want to stay here with Eugene. When you get back, we’ll wake him and get him to drink something.”

“Yes, ma’am,” her son said automatically. He led Dr. Vanders up the stairs to the guest room that Heath was using. His gentle rap on the door received no response. Respecting Heath’s privacy, he tried a second rap which also went unanswered. Peter opened the door a crack and was relieved to see his younger brother sound asleep in the bed. He had almost expected to have to go hunt Heath down. He knew that his brother had taken to wandering around the back yard when he was supposed to be sleeping. Apparently, the lack of sleep had caught up with him.

Peter led the doctor across the room and placed a gentle hand on Heath’s shoulder. “Heath, you need to wake up,” he said as he shook the shoulder gently.

The words brought the younger brother awake immediately. “What’s wrong?” he demanded as he shook his head to clear away the cobwebs. “Has something happened with Gene?”

“Gene’s about the same,” Peter wouldn’t lie to his brother. “The doctor says we have to start getting some more liquids down him, however.”

“All right,” Heath pushed himself up, intent on getting out of bed. “Do you need me to come help you?”

“No,” his brother drew out the word a little. “Heath, this is Dr. Vanders. He came to check on Gene. Mother wants him to check you, too.”

“What?” Heath did a pretty good imitation of Nick at his most indignant.

“I’m sorry, Heath, she insisted.”

“I’m fine,” he glared at Peter and then at the doctor.

But Dr. Vanders was very use to reluctant patients, “Mr. Barkley, your mother is very concerned about one son. Let’s see if we can relieve her of any concerns about a second son, all right?”

Peter couldn’t help but grin as Heath hesitated for only a moment and then sighed and nodded his head. Dr. Vanders had struck directly at Heath’s soft spot; he would do just about anything to relieve Mother of any worry. The doctor worked efficiently, taking Heath’s temperature, checking his pulse and eyes, and listening to his chest. He frowned slightly as he listened to Heath’s heart and lungs. He directed the young man to lean forward and raised his underwear shirt so that he could listen to his back. The scars there stopped him and he immediately raised his eyes to Peter’s, silently demanding an explanation.

“Heath was in Carterson prison for seven months at the end of the war,” was all that Peter offered. Heath added nothing, just pressed his lips together and colored slightly.

“I see,” the doctor, who had served in the Union army and who had helped after the liberation of Andersonville, said tersely. He listened carefully to Heath’s lungs, instructing him to take several deep breaths.

“Something wrong?” Peter didn’t like the doctor’s expression.

“Umm, no,” the doctor shook his head. “No fever and his lungs sound reasonably clear.”

“Reasonably?” Peter didn’t like the sound of that at all.

“I’m fine, Pete,” Heath grumbled. “This is just foolishness.”

“I’m not so sure, Heath,” the older brother crossed his arms and turned to the doctor who was putting away his instruments. “Doctor? Is he in danger? Do we need to send him back to the ranch?”

The doctor didn’t answer directly. He studied the man who had been just a boy at the end of the war, again wondering how a Barkley son could have lived such a life, and then asked, “How long were you in the hospital after being released from Carterson?”

“How long” and not “if” he was in the hospital, Heath noted. He started to deny his hospitalization but something in the doctor’s expression told him that this man knew all too well what life had been like in the Confederate prisons in the waning days of the war. He finally admitted, “Three months.”

Peter’s eyes rounded in shock. He had no idea; he wondered if the rest of the family knew. The way Heath avoided looking at him made him doubt that his younger brother had shared this with anyone. The doctor asked calmly, “Pneumonia?”

“Yes,” Heath barely whispered the word.

“Other injuries and infections?”

“Yes.”

“Many problems since then?”

“Nothing too serious.”

“Um, Heath, I don’t think that’s quite true. Nick has told me you’ve been pretty sick a number of times . . . not just with a cough and cold but when you’re been hurt. He said you’re like Jarrod . . . they always have to watch you if you’re in bed for any amount of time. Your fever will shoot up,” Peter said softly.

Heath shot his brother an irritated look, “It ain’t that bad.”

Peter mockingly put his hands up in defensive stance, “I’m just saying what Nick told me.”

“Well, I don’t really appreciate you two talking about me behind my back,” the younger brother’s eyes bored into the older brother.

“Sorry,” Peter replied with a tinge of sarcasm. “Nick just worries about you, is all.”

“Well, he doesn’t need to be doing that!”

“All right, gentleman,” the doctor put a stop to the argument. “I’m sure things were only shared out of concern. The issue at hand is much more important.”

“He’s getting sick,” Peter said flatly.

“No,” the doctor said patiently, “but he will need to be watched and you need to be sure he eats regularly and gets good rest.”

“Look, doc,” Heath ground the words out, “I came here to help take care of our little brother not to be babied. I’m fine, I tell you.”

“I think you are fine,” the doctor agreed but added, “but I can hear that your lungs have been stressed in the past. We need to keep an eye on you.”

“Are you sure we don’t need to ship him out of here?” Peter asked again.

The doctor looked into the other man’s determined eyes, “No, I don’t think that’s really necessary now. Your brother has already been exposed to the influenza. To tell you the truth, I think your mother would worry more if we sent him away with the prospect of contracting the disease. I am serious, however, that it’s important that you eat and rest well. I’m going to give you a dose of laudanum to help you finish the sleep that we interrupted.”

“No,” Heath said instantly.

“Yes,” the doctor said calmly, “and I’ll get your brother to help hold you down to administer it if necessary.”

Heath shot an angry look at Peter, fully aware of his older brother’s strength. “What are you going to tell Mother?” he finally asked.

“That you’re well,” Dr. Vanders replied as he reached into his bag for the medicine and a spoon, “but like with the rest of the family we need to be alert for any of the early symptoms of the influenza—headache, gentle acheness, fever—and that we need to respond quickly if any of those symptoms occur. Now take this.”

Heath allowed himself one more disgruntled look before he took the foul tasting medicine. He gave his brother a hard look, “Pete, you be sure Mother gets some rest soon.”

“I will,” the older brother promised and reached out to pat the younger’s shoulder. Heath let a small smile slip out. He wasn’t angry at Pete; he knew it was Mother who insisted on the doctor seeing him. He was more sorry that now she had an added worry. No matter what the doctor told her, she would be worried about him. Sighing softly, he gave himself over to the powers of the medicine and slipped back under the blanket of sleep.

Chapter 8

Audra was amazed at how healthy her sister-in-law could look given how sick she had been again this morning. Audra, of course, knew about morning sickness, had heard friends complain about it during their pregnancies, but had never been around someone actually experiencing it. Samantha had been almost deathly ill again this morning; she hadn’t even tried to come downstairs. Audra had seen to getting all three children up and dressed and downstairs to breakfast while both Nick and Jarrod had hovered over Samantha. Her sister-in-law had looked a little pale and shaky when she had come downstairs on Jarrod’s arm in the late morning, but, within an hour, announced that she was hungry and had eaten a huge lunch.

While Nicky took his short afternoon nap and Lizzie V. her longer one, Samantha had worked with Tom on his letters and numbers. When Nicky awoke, she set both boys to building block towers in the floor of their bedroom until Lizzie V. completed her nap. Now all three children were being watched by their mother and their aunt as they played together in the garden. Actually, Tom and Nicky were playing together and Lizzie V. was doing a good job of getting in their way. Audra was surprised with how patient Tom was with her . . . so different than the way her oldest nephew treated his brother Nicky. And, when Nicky started to get rude with Lizzie V., Tom immediately chastised him, “She’s just a baby, Nicky. Be nice.” Nicky responded with an angry glare which Tom just ignored.

Audra glanced over at her sister-in-law, envying her seemingly effortless mothering. She never hovered but she was always accessible. She hugged and kissed and lavished her affections on her children, but she set rules and didn’t bend on them. Now, rather than scolding Nicky or making Lizzie V. come over to her or cautioning Tom for being too bossy, she was allowing her three children to work out their differences. She wondered how Samantha knew to do these things. Audra adored children, especially her nephews and niece, and she dreamed of the day she might have her own children, but she worried about how she would do as a mother. She had been spoiled and petted all her life, she knew it. Would she know how to raise strong, kind children?

Audra pulled her thoughts from her daydreams of the future. It was then that she realized that Samantha also didn’t seem to be thinking about the three children playing a few yards from them. Her sister-in-law’s eyes were locked on some distant point and her beautiful mouth was turned down in obvious sadness.

“Sam? Are you feeling all right?” Audra reached out to touch her arm. “If you need to go in and lie down, I’ll watch the children.”

Samantha shook her head and pressed her lips together. It was a moment before she answered, “I’m fine, Audra. At least, I’m fine physically. I’m just missing Peter.”

“I’m sure everything’s all right,” Audra gently rubbed the arm she had touched. “They would send us news if there was any problem. Barton promised me he would let us know if Jarrod or I needed to come.”

“Barton promised?” Samantha teased. “And when did this private little conversation occur between the two of you.”

Audra ignored the little jibe, “Mother had me show Barton to his room and I just asked him to please let us know if things got worse, if either Gene got sicker or Mother or Heath or Peter fell ill. He promised he would.”

“Is that all you two talked about?” Samantha pressed.

“Yes, Sam,” Audra sighed. “Barton isn’t interested in me. You know that. I’m just Peter’s little sister, someone he needs to be polite to.”

“Really?” the other woman raised an eyebrow. “That’s the only way he sees you, as his partner’s little sister? That’s why his eyes were following you all evening when you went with us to the Everhart’s ball last spring.”

“He was not,” she rolled her own eyes. “I will remind you that he was there with Constance Miller, the toast of San Francisco society. Everyone was watching her, in that incredible claret gown. I’m sure she has Barton’s full attention, then and now.”

“Oh, he’s not seeing Constance any more,” Samantha informed her. “You know Barton; he makes sure he’s never linked with one woman for very long. And he was watching you at the ball as you managed to turn your share of heads despite Constance’s glamorous and rather revealing gown. I saw it and so did Eugene.”

“I think you and Gene are seeing things. Peter didn’t see any such thing, did he?” Audra challenged.

“No,” her sister-in-law admitted, “but then he was spending most of the evening talking business. When he’s talking business, he tends to miss all the other things that are going on.”

“Well, there was nothing going on besides yours and Gene’s overactive imaginations.”

“All right,” Samantha murmured. “So that’s why Barton came here for the 4^th of July celebration rather than attend any number of parties in San Francisco. Because he only sees you as Peter’s sister.”

“I think he came just because he wanted a break from the city. Besides he never danced once with me the whole evening.”

“I asked him about that. He said you seemed very busy with your ‘young man.’ He didn’t want to intrude. That’s when you were on again with Carl Wheeler in your on again off again relationship, remember?”

“Yes, I remember, and Carl and I quarreled that very evening and we have been off again ever since.”

“So how do you see Barton?”

“As Peter’s partner,” came the calm reply.

“That’s all?”

“Oh, he’s handsome, and interesting to be around, and seems to be very kind, and I know he’s terribly successful. I mean, everyone says he and Peter are doing so well, particularly given how young they are, I mean compared to most bank officers. He has impeccable manners and he dances so well. He likes so many different things. I mean, he can talk opera with Jarrod and cattle with Nick, science with Gene and horses with Heath.”

“That’s all?” Samantha barely masked her snicker.

Audra dropped her eyes, “Oh, Sam, don’t tease. He’s interesting just like a lot of other men are interesting.”

“But nothing special to you, huh?”

This time the other woman hesitated for several moments before she spoke and then it wasn’t exactly a reply, “How do you know if someone is special, Sam? I mean, there have been so many boys and men who I have thought were special at the time, but now, looking back, I’m not sure why I thought they were special to me. And I don’t really miss that they’re no longer around. Does that mean I’m fickle?”

“No, I think that means you haven’t met the right man yet.”

“How do you know though, Sam? How did you know Peter was the right one for you?”

“I’m not sure,” Samantha shrugged her shoulders. “You have to remember that I wasn’t given the chance to be around boys like you were. I’d never had any feelings about any man before Peter so I didn’t have anything to compare my feelings with.”

“But you must have felt something, something that told you he was the right man for you, the man to spend the rest of your life with,” Audra pressed.

“Oh, I don’t know, Audra. I guess when I first met him he was like Barton is to you, handsome, well-mannered, exciting. If you’re asking me when I knew I had fallen in love with him, I don’t know if I can tell you.”

Her sister-in-law sighed deeply. She had so hoped that Samantha could help her understand it all, the feelings that somehow bound you to a man forever. Sadly she thought, maybe she was not destined to feel those feelings.

Audra’s sigh and her sad eyes upset Samantha. She wanted to help her, but she instinctively knew that each woman recognized love in a different way. Finally, she offered, “I’m not sure when I fell in love with him, Audra, but I do remember the moment that I knew I would never love another as I loved him. It was when Pappa told me that Peter was leaving, that I would probably never see him again. At that moment, it was as if someone had just reached in and pulled my heart out. I just had this awful hole in my chest. I knew no one, nothing would ever fill that hole. When he came back that night, when he came to me, that hole was filled. I knew then, before he even said that he loved me, that he was the one for me.”

“And do you ever wonder how Peter knew? What made him come back?”

“I just know he came back, Audra. That was all that mattered.”

Audra turned the words over in her mind. There was something in her heart, something that had already hinted at where her future lay, but she didn’t know whether to believe it. It seemed like such a small sign for something that was so important. She might have said something more to Samantha had little Lizzie V. not come toddling over then.

“Me pappa?” the baby tugged at her mother’s skirt.

“Pappa’s still in San Francisco with Grandmother and Uncle Heath and Uncle Gene,” Samantha spoke as if the child could understand every word.

“Home?”

“Yes, Pappa is at home.”

“Go.”

“No, we can’t go home until Pappa comes to get us, baby.”

“Me Pappa horsey.”

“Yes, Pappa plays horsey with you. He makes you laugh, doesn’t he, cherie.”

“Want horsey.”

“Well, maybe Uncle Jarrod would play horsey with you when he gets home this evening. All right?”

The baby seemed to understand clearly what was being offered. She sighed softly, “Me Pappa horsey.”

“I know, cherie, you miss him. I miss him, too. But, soon, we’ll get to see him, soon,” Samantha promised her daughter, punctuating it with a kiss on the dark curls. “Now, why don’t we find your dolly and see if can’t find a pretty piece of material in Grandmother’s sewing basket to make her a dress. Audra, would you watch the boys for a few minutes?”

“Of course,” Audra smiled as Samantha picked up her tiny daughter and stood to go into the house. “I think there’s a piece of blue satin that would make a very pretty dress.”

“We’ll look for it,” Samantha turned to look at her sister-in-law again. She wanted to say something more about finding love, about knowing love, but all she could think to say was that, when she was apart from Peter, her heart just seemed to skip beats. But talking about it just made it hurt even more. So she just headed toward the open doors.

* * * * * * * *

Heath was supposed to be sleeping but sleep was doing an excellent job of evading him. He had slipped out the back of Peter’s home and wandered around the back garden for a bit. His wandering took him to the very back of the property. What he discovered there brought a smile to his lips. The old oak now sported a rather raggedy tree house. As he studied the crooked boards and the bent nails, Heath imagined the patience of a father helping two little boys to build their own special place. He leaned against the wide trunk and imagined the hours that Peter and his sons had spent here. Closing his eyes he could almost hear the sweet voices of Tom and Nicky. How wonderful it must be to have a father who would do such things with you. He was enjoying the imagined scene so much that he never heard the steps of the person on the other side of the wall. Her voice caused him to jump about half a foot in the air.

“Mr. Barkley?” her voice was soft and gentle, like the breeze that was just barely bending the tops of the hedge that separated the two yards. His jump embarrassed her, “I’m so sorry to bother you. I’m ah, I’m ah Rebecca Henderson, Mr. and Mrs. Barkley’s neighbor. That is, my parents are their neighbors. I just wanted to check to see if everything is all right.”

For a moment, all Heath could do was stare at the vision on the other side of the hedgerow. She was slender, maybe just a little shorter than Audra, dark hair that had hints of red when the sun was hitting it just right . . . and it was hitting it just right now.

His silence seemed to unnerve her further, “I’m ah, ah, very sorry for disturbing you. I saw you walking in Mr. and Mrs. Barkley’s garden and you look like Mr. Barkley so I assumed that you were one of his brothers, that is I assumed you were a Mr. Barkley. I’m sorry if I was mistaken.”

“No, no,” he finally managed to stutter out. “I’m Heath, Heath Barkley. Pete is my brother.”

She seemed a little relieved, “We saw the sign posted on Mr. and Mrs. Barkley’s porch, about the ah, the ah influenza, Mr. Barkley. We were worried that one of the children might be sick. My father hadn’t seen them out playing. When I saw you out here, I thought it would be an opportunity to find out what’s happening. Again, I’m sorry that I disturbed you, Mr. Barkley.”

“That’s fine. Pete sent Sam and the children to our ranch outside of Stockton,” he explained. “He brought our youngest brother here from Berkeley. Eugene’s the one who’s got the influenza.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Mr. Barkley,” she bit her lip. “I’ve met your brother Eugene, one day when he was visiting and out here playing with the boys. I’m sorry that he’s ill.”

“Well, he’s holding his own. Mother and I came to help Pete take care of him. We’re hoping we’ll be able to take him home in a few days.”

“I hope so, too, Mr. Barkley,” she grimaced, thinking that didn’t come out the way she wanted. “I mean, I hope he gets better so you can take him home soon.”

“Thanks,” he gave her a gentle lopsided smile.

“Is there, is there anything we can do for you, Mr. Barkley?” she asked.

“Not now, but thanks for the offer. I’m sorry, miss, I didn’t catch your name.”

“It’s Becca, I mean it’s Rebecca Henderson.”

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Henderson,” he had just managed to stop himself from calling her Becca. The name fit her perfectly. “I appreciate your concern for our family. Please let your parents know that Sam and the children are fine. We got a telegram from the ranch today. Everyone there is still well. We’re really hoping that Pete got them all out of the city and to the ranch before they could be exposed.”

“Oh, I hope so,” the young woman frowned in concern. “They’re such sweet children and Mrs. Barkley is such a wonderful mother.”

“She is, isn’t she,” Heath’s lips curled into another lopsided grin. He had no idea how endearing she found that.

“Well, I guess I should go,” she said it with some regret.

“Yeah, I need to go back in and see if I can’t get some sleep,” he also hated to see their conversation end. “I need to relieve Mother in a little while and see if we can’t get her to get some rest.”

“Please promise to let us know if there’s anything we can do to help out,” she took a slow step back from the hedge.

“Appreciate the offer,” he hesitated and then decided to take the risk. “Umm, maybe we could meet here tomorrow morning and I could give you an update on how things are going and let you know if we need anything.”

“All right,” she said it just a touch too eagerly and blushed, knowing he had seen her eagerness. The smile he gave her, that wonderful little lopsided smile, told her that he was pleased that she wanted to see him again. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Mr. Barkley.”

“I’ll see you then, Miss Henderson.”

He watched her walk all the way back to the back door of her parents’ beautiful home. When she turned back just as she was about to go through the door, he gave her a small wave. Even from the distance, he could see her smile as she returned his wave and then slipped into the house. Grinning to himself, he decided he really did need to go back in and try to catch a few hours of sleep. For some reason, he thought it might be a little difficult. He had a feeling that the image of Miss Becca Henderson might just keep him awake for a good while. And that wasn’t all bad, he thought.

* * * * * * * *

Samantha hated to bother Jarrod while he was working; it was like she was breaking one of the rules she had given the children. But Lizzie V. would be going to bed in another 30 minutes. It was pretty much now or never.

“Jarrod,” she said the name softly, hoping it would be a little less disruptive.

“Yes, Sam,” his head flew up immediately, concern written across his face. “Is something wrong?”

“No, no, nothing’s really wrong,” she stumbled. “I just needed to ask you a favor.”

“Anything, honey.”

“Oh, this is so silly. I’m so sorry to bother you with this. It’s just, it’s just . . . .”

“What, Sam?”

“Oh, I feel so ridiculous asking you this,” she murmured.

“Sam?” he raised his eyebrows in slight exasperation.

“I just wondered if you would. Well, you see, Lizzie V. is missing her pappa so much. There’s this thing he does most evenings with her. She sits on his knee and he plays horsey with her.”

“All right,” he said cautiously.

“I was wondering. I mean, she asked to go home today, to go to her pappa, to play horsey with him. I told her that maybe you would do it this evening.”

“I’ll be happy to, Sam,” he laid his pen down.

She sighed, pleased that he was being so kind about this very silly request. She took a deep breath and hesitantly proceeded, “The thing is, you have to say this silly little rhyme when you do it. It goes ‘This is the way the ladies ride’ and then you bounce her on your knee while you say ‘nim, nim, nim.’ And then it’s ‘This is the way the gentlemen ride’ . . . .”

“I know, Sam,” Jarrod stood, smiling softly.

“You do?” she was amazed. Of course, Jarrod was certainly one of the most knowledgeable men that she knew, but nursery rhymes?

“Sam, I heard my mother say that rhyme to my four younger siblings. Trust me, I know the words,” he gently squeezed her shoulder.

“Oh,” her eyes rounded in surprise. “I didn’t realize. I guess I never thought about where Peter might have learned that game.”

“I’m sure he learned it watching mother with Audra and Gene,” Jarrod said logically. “It’s about Lizzie V.’s bed time, isn’t it. We better hurry if she’s going to get her riding lesson in.”

“Thank you, Jarrod,” Samantha smiled up at him.

The children were all in the sitting room, bathed and in their nightgowns. Tom was sitting with Audra, looking through a picture book and picking out words that he knew. Nicky was sitting on the floor with Nick, loading and unloading a wooden train. Lizzie V. was sitting at Audra’s feet, playing with her doll. Jarrod reached down to ruffle Nicky’s hair as he stepped over Nick’s long legs and he winked at Tom as he knelt down beside Audra, but it was Lizzie V. who was the focus of his attention.

“Hello, beautiful little lady. I see your dolly has a beautiful new dress,” he said softly.

The baby patted the shiny blue fabric and smiled up at her uncle, her little eyes shining. Just as Samantha did, Jarrod talked to the little girl as if she could understand every word, “I was wondering if you do me a favor and play a game with me. It’s called ‘horsey.’” Nick took his eyes off of Nicky for a moment and winked at Jarrod. He remembered this game also.

Lizzie V. hesitated a moment and then laid her doll down and extended her arms to her uncle. He picked her up and cradled her against his chest. “Now, I think this chair will work very well, don’t you?” He sat down and then carefully balanced the little girl on his knee. “If I remember this correctly, I believe we start with, ‘This is the way the ladies ride, nim, nim, nim. And this is the way the gentlemen ride, trim, trim, trim. And this is the way the cowboys ride, a-gallup, a-gallup, a gallup.’”

Jarrod did the rhyme and the knee jiggling perfectly, but little Lizzie’s eyes filled with tears and her lower lip trembled. “Me Pappa,” her little voice quaked as sobs threatened.

“Oh, this isn’t working out at all the way I thought it would,” Samantha started. “I’m so sorry, Jarrod. Here, let me take her.”

“Oh, I think this particular game just reminds our little lady too much of her pappa,” he let his finger stroke the baby’s soft cheek. “I have an idea, Lizzie V. I know another game. A game for just you and me. Would you like me to show you, honey?”

The baby regarded him with solemn eyes and a downturned mouth, but she didn’t resist as Jarrod gently took her hands and began clapping them together and he softly recited, “Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker's man, bake me a cake as fast as you can. Roll it, and prick it, and mark it with a "B" and put it in the oven for baby and me!”

Jarrod reached out to tickle Lizzie V.’s ribs as he finished the rhyme. Her little eyes had followed his movements closely. As he tickled her, her eyes crinkled and she giggled. “Pattycake,” she whispered and clapped her hands on her own.

“Do you want to play it again?” he asked.

“Pattycake,” she nodded.

Jarrod complied and his niece was giggling before he reached the end of the rhyme. Thoroughly happy now, she snuggled against his chest. A little pleased with himself, Jarrod cuddled her close. He heard her whisper, “Pattycake,” and giggle to herself. He smiled up at Samantha and gave her a wink.

“Thank you, Jarrod,” she responded. “Let me take her now. It’s best not to rock her asleep. It spoils them; they have to learn how to fall asleep in their own beds.”

“Can’t we make an exception this night,” he begged. “Just this once.”

“All right,” she gave in easily, “but we can’t make a habit of it.”

He nodded and then shifted the baby to his shoulder. When she sleepily whispered “pattycake” once more, he grinned widely and slowly stood up. “I’ll put her to bed,” he softly told Samantha and headed toward the stairs.

Samantha went off to get her first glass of milk. When she came back into the sitting room, she asked Audra if Jarrod had come back downstairs. Her sister-in-law shook her head. Samantha scooped up Lizzie V.’s doll and told her boys to behave while she went to check on their sister. Samantha half expected to find Jarrod sitting in her and Peter’s room, rocking the little girl; but she found her daughter carefully tucked in her little bed. She slipped the doll in next to the sleeping child and kissed her softly. As she stepped into the hallway, she realized there was lamplight coming from Jarrod’s room at the end of the hall. She slipped down to tell him thank you once again for being so sweet with Lizzie V.

As she peeked in the open doorway, she saw Jarrod reach over and pick up a framed picture from the table beside his bed. She would have left him to his thoughts, but he glanced up and saw her in the doorway. “Sam, is everything all right?” he said quickly, a soft smile on his face.

“Everything is fine, Jarrod. I’m sorry that I’m bothering you again. I was just going to tell you thank you for making Lizzie V. laugh. You were wonderful.”

“You’re not bothering me,” he replied. “And you’re most welcome. I enjoyed myself immensely.”

She hesitated for a moment, shifting a little from foot to foot, “Well, I should go check on the boys. It won’t be long before they’ll be needing to head off to bed. I need to be sure that Uncle Nick doesn’t get them all excited.”

His smile widened slightly and he looked back down at the picture in his hand. Silence filled the room, and Samantha started to back away. He spoke suddenly, “This is a picture of Beth and me, taken on our wedding day in Denver.” He extended the picture toward her.

Samantha stepped across the room and took the frame, “She’s beautiful.”

“Yes, she was,” he agreed, “both inside and out.”

She studied the picture again and looked into his open, honest face, “I know you must miss her so much.”

He nodded his head slowly. It was several moments before he spoke, “When I see your children, I always think of the few times we talked about children, about our children, the children we hoped to have.”

Samantha took a deep breath. Her heart ached for her brother-in-law. Everyone in the family leaned so heavily upon him. Even Peter, who was always so fiercely independent, who had run away from home at 14, still turned to “Pappy.” Who did “Pappy” lean on, she wondered. Finally, she said softly, “It’s interesting, isn’t it. How when you fall in love, the first thing you think of is the family that you’re going to make with this other person. It’s as if you know that it’s the sharing of a child that will make the love you have for each other live forever.”

“Hmm,” he murmured, not really agreeing or disagreeing with her.

She bit her lip and then dared to continue, “I am so sorry that you and Beth did not have a chance to make that family, Jarrod. But, you’re still alive, Jarrod, and you need to think about trying to find that happiness again. You’re going to be a wonderful father, Jarrod Barkley, if you’ll just let yourself love again.”

His eyes remained on the picture that she handed back to him. Others had told him essentially the same thing, that he had to get on with his life. He had thought that none of them understood the love he had had for Beth or they would not have expected him to even think about loving another. But this evening, for just a moment when he was playing with Lizzie V., he had considered the wonderful possibility of having a daughter of his own to bounce on his knee, to tease such sweet laughter from. For just a moment, he dreamed of a family. And it had felt so right.

“I need to go check on the boys,” Samantha repeated. She leaned over to kiss his cheek, “Good night, Pappy.”

“Good night, Sam,” he answered, but his eyes remained on the picture.

She turned and walked from the room. Concern for the wonderful man, however, made her turn back. She watched as he slowly stood and walked to his chest of drawers. He pulled open the top drawer and laid the picture carefully inside and slowly closed it. Good, she thought, he was putting the picture away. It was still close enough that he could look at it anytime that he wanted, but maybe this putting it away was a first step for him. She silently prayed so.

Chapter 9

Nicky Barkley stood on the bottom step of the stairs, furiously tapping his little foot. His big brother could be so slow at times. Aunt Audra had said she would take them down to the barn to play while Lizzie V. was still taking her nap. Nicky had high hopes that he could talk his aunt into letting them at least sit on one of the horses. He wished that Uncle Heath hadn’t had to go to the city with Grandmother. If Uncle Heath or Pappa were here, they’d get to go riding. But Uncle Nick couldn’t take them both and he wouldn’t take just one of them. Well, sitting on a horse was better than nothing. If his stupid big brother would ever get done practicing his numbers with Mamma, they could go out. Nicky wasn’t looking forward at all to when he would have to start doing things like letters and numbers. He wondered if he could convince Mamma that he didn’t need to know such things given he was going to be a cowboy just like his Uncle Nick.

“Hello there, Nicky,” Aunt Audra smiled at him as she came down the stairs. “You about ready to go outside to play?”

“Waiting on Tom,” the little boy said shortly.

“Oh, he’ll be done in a minute,” she patted his head. “Then we’ll all go out to the barn and see if we if we can find those kittens.”

“Rather see horses,” he replied.

“We’ll look at the horses, too,” she promised, “but you know I can’t take you riding. Your mamma and pappa don’t want you riding unless one of your uncles is with us.”

“Uncle Jarrod?”

“Oh, he went to town while you were taking your nap.”

The boy sighed, “Uncle Nick?” He asked even though he knew that Uncle Nick was not around. If Uncle Nick was any where close by, you’d be able to hear him.

“I think Uncle Nick is out working,” she shook her head. “You’re just going to have to make do with me. But I promise we’ll have fun.”

He nodded his head still not totally happy. His aunt studied him for a moment, “Oh, by the way, Uncle Nick told me that Flicker had her foal last night so you’ll get to see our newest horse.”

“Yea!” now this was something good, Nicky grinned widely. He looked up the stairs now twice as anxious for his brother. Thankfully, Tom was FINALLY coming, but, darn it, he was just dwaddling along, talking to Mamma about some stupid name thing. Nicky’s patience snapped. “Hell’s bells, Tom, hurry up.”

Nicky had never seen quite the look that his mamma’s face now had. Oh, he’d seen her upset with him and Tom before, when they’d be fighting or arguing. But today’s look was something different. Her eyes were, well, they were scary. And her voice, well, it was scary, too, “Nicholas Robert Barkley, what did you just say!?”

“Told Tom to hurry up,” the little boy’s eyes got bigger as his mother swept down the stairs towards him.

“Yes, but what words did you use?!” she said sharply.

“Um, um, Uncle Nick says it,” the boy knew instinctively that he had better not repeat what he had said.

His mother reached down and grabbed his arm and started propelling him toward the back of the house, “I don’t care that Uncle Nick says it. He’s not my son and my son is not going to ever use those words. To help you remember, we’re just going to wash your mouth out with soap.”

“But, Mamma” the boy wailed. “Uncle Nick says.”

“No, Nicholas Robert. I don’t want to hear that,” she pulled the boy out of the room.

“Uh-oh,” Tom whispered as he came to stand beside his stunned Aunt Audra. “Nicky’s in big trouble. Mamma doesn’t like bad words.”

“Maybe you and I need to go down to the barn for a little while so that your mamma can talk with Nicky,” she reached down to take his hand.

“She’s not talkin’ to him, Aunt Audra,” the little boy informed her seriously. “I know what she’s doin’ and Nicky’s not gonna like it. Soap tastes awful.”

“So you’ve had your mouth washed out with soap?” Audra was surprised. Tom always seemed to be such a well-behaved little boy.

“Uh-huh. Mamma doesn’t like bad words,” he repeated but offered no further details.

“Well, let’s give them some privacy,” she urged. “I don’t think Nicky would appreciate us staying around while he’s being punished.”

“I don’t wanna be around. Mamma might decide I need punishing for something, too,” Tom tugged at his aunt’s hand and pulled her toward the door.

* * * * * * * *

Victoria pulled her shawl more tightly around her shoulders. It wasn’t that she was cold; she just liked the comfort that the familiar texture gave her. She leaned against the facing of Peter’s backdoor, allowing the soft breeze to slide over her. The strong hand that came to rest on her shoulder and gently squeeze just brought her more comfort.

“After Heath gets up and gets something to eat, I want you to go lie down. You need to be getting more rest, Mother,” Peter’s voice was gentle but stern.

She did her best to hold back her smile as she turned her head to look up at her son, “Yes, dear. But I think if we count the number of hours of rest that everyone has gotten, I’ve done much better than you.”

“Ah,” he dismissed her concern with a wave of his free hand, “I don’t need much sleep.”

“So much like your father,” she laughed softly.

“Really?”

“Uh-huh,” she nodded, her eyes lighting up at the thought of her husband. “Many nights he came to bed long after I did. If he went to bed with me, he usually got up in the night to go downstairs to work. I swear he could be as fresh with just four or five hours of sleep as I was with eight.”

Peter chuckled softly, “Sam complains because she’ll wake up and I won’t be in bed with her. She’s gotten where she usually doesn’t go looking for me . . . that I’ll be back up later.”

“Sometimes,” Victoria confessed, “I would go looking for your father. He wasn’t always downstairs working. Sometimes I would find him in with one of you children.”

“Chasing away nightmares?” he could remember a few times that he had awakened from a nightmare to find his father holding him, soothing him.

“No, he would just be sitting watching whichever one of you sleep. Sometimes, he would reach out to touch your face or smooth your hair. He would be so gentle that none of you ever knew he was there.”

Peter shook his head slightly, “I have a hard time imaging Father taking the time to sit and watch us sleep.”

“But he did,” she said firmly. “It was like he couldn’t allow himself to be gentle with you boys when you were awake. He was always so intent that we not raise you boys to be sissies. He wanted his sons to be strong and independent.”

“He accomplished that, didn’t he,” he chuckled.

“Yes, he did,” she replied. “I think, though, as he got older he wished he had let you boys see his soft side occasionally.”

“Father? Soft side?”

“Yes, he had a soft side,” his mother said patiently. “You know he did. You remember how he was with Audra and me. He just thought he couldn’t be that way with you boys, but later in his life I think he felt differently. And he would steal some special moments when you were asleep”

“Hmm,” Peter stared out into the yard, letting his eyes skim across the beautiful garden that his wife was so carefully cultivating. If she could keep the boys from spending too much time in it playing hunters or soldiers or Indians or whatever else they dreamed up, then one day Sam would have a masterpiece. “So, um, Mother, do you, uh, think I’m doing all right with my children?”

“I think you’re doing wonderfully with your children,” she smiled.

“No, really, I worry about the kind of father I am.”

She looked up to study his face closely, “Why would you worry?”

“I’m busy, I’m gone a lot. Sam ends up having to do most of the parent things.”

“It’s hard, isn’t it,” she tucked her arm around his. “You’re torn between having to provide for them and wanting to be with them. Trying to balance the two things is very difficult. I know your father always struggled with it.”

“Father? He always seemed so sure of himself.”

“Oh, appearances are often deceiving. It was hard for him, too. He worried about being gone so much, especially when you older boys were small. He was so happy when you boys got up old enough to spend time with him on the range. He knew he’d be able both to work and to spend time with his sons.”

“Well, I could say that I thought he was just looking for cheap hands, but actually he went easy on us. I think even back then I knew he mainly wanted us with him. I remember looking so forward to the day that I could ride out with him and Jarrod and Nicky,” her son admitted. “I’m not sure how I’m going to do the same for my children. A bank’s not quite the same as a ranch.”

“You’ll figure something out,” she patted his arm. “I have great faith in you. Just be sure to listen to your wife on occasion.”

He glanced down at her, wondering whether she wished that his father had listened to her a little more often. But she offered nothing more. After a few moments, she spoke firmly, “Let’s see if we can rouse Gene and get some broth down him.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Peter gave her a quick hug. “And then you’ll get something to eat and be ready to go get some sleep when Heath gets up.”

“Yes, sir,” she laughed at him. For all her worries about Eugene, she was truly enjoying these moments with her Peter. She wished again that Tom had lived to see his all children as adults. He would have liked them and he would have known that he had managed to accomplish just about all of his goals for them.

* * * * * * * *

Nick Barkley had cut his workday a little short so that he could get back to the house in order to help Sam with the children. He certainly hadn’t expected to receive the greeting that got when he led Coco into the barn.

“Well, now you’ve done it, Nick Barkley,” Audra began to scold her brother.

“What?” he spun around to stare at her.

“You’ve gone and gotten Nicky in trouble,” she snapped at him.

“Nicky’s in trouble? He’s not hurt or anything is he??”

“No, he’s not hurt, but he probably got the scolding of his life and it’s all your fault.”

“What are you talking about?” he demanded. “I wasn’t even here.”

“That doesn’t matter; it’s still your fault.”

“Now that just doesn’t make any sense, Audra,” Nick’s voice went up a notch. “How can Nicky getting in trouble be my fault when I wasn’t any where around.”

“It’s because you are the way you are, not thinking about what you say,” she shook a finger at him.

It was all he could do to keep from reaching out and grabbing the finger. He settled for jamming his fists on his hips, “Will you please tell me what’s going on and how in God’s green earth it could be my fault?”

It was Tom who explained. He left the kittens he had been playing with and came over to stand beside his aunt. “Nicky said bad words and Mamma washed his mouth out with soap.”

“And he heard you use those words, Nick,” Audra said firmly. “You’re going to have to watch what you say in front of the boys. They think that if you say it, it’s all right for them to say it.”

“I know better, Aunt Audra,” Tom calmly informed his aunt.

Nick took a moment to glare at his older nephew . . . sometimes that boy reminded him just a little too much of Jarrod, always acting like he knows everything. “Well, hell, Audra, what did he say that was so bad?”

“Nick,” she gasped. “You have to stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop using bad words,” she said through tight lips.

“Damn it, Audra, all I did was ask what he said?” Nick bellowed.

“Nick!” Audra shouted louder while Tom slapped a hand to his forehead and shook his head.

“It’s hopeless, Aunt Audra,” the little boy sighed, garnering himself another glare from his uncle. Tom handled the glare just fine; he knew that Uncle Nick wasn’t going to do anything to him.

“Nick, if you don’t watch your language around the children, Sam’s not going to let you be around them,” Audra unloaded both barrels on her big brother.

The charge rocked Nick back on his heels. He adored his nephews and niece. Surely Sam wouldn’t keep them from him just because of a few poorly-chosen words. Audra’s look, however, made him doubt this thought. He finally mumbled, “I’m gonna go up to the house to see how things are, see if I can maybe fix things.”

“It’s too late,” Tom called after his uncle, not knowing how the words stung Nick.

Nick quickly found little Nicky. He was sitting on the front porch, his elbows on his knees, his little chin in his hands. The look the little boy had on his face couldn’t be more pitiful. His uncle swallowed hard and knelt in front of the boy, “Hey, partner, understand we had a little problem today.”

“Yep.”

“What happened, son?”

“Said words Mamma didn’t like.”

“I’m sorry about that, Nicky,” Nick reached out to gently ruffle the boy’s hair.

Nicky wrinkled his brow and shook his head, “I said it.”

“Yeah, I know you were the one who said it, but you only said it because you’d heard me say it,” his uncle confessed.

The little boy’s lower lip protruded, “Mamma don’t care you said.”

“Well, maybe I could talk with her,” the man offered.

The boy regarded him with doleful green eyes, “Too late. Washed my mouth with soap.”

“She did, huh.”

The little head gave a sad nod, “Tasted bad.”

“Yeah, I know,” Nick ducked his head. When he raised it, he was surprised that the little boy was just staring at him with a confused look. “C’mon, son, I want to show you something.”

Nicky shook his head, “Can’t get off porch. Mamma said.”

“You don’t have to get off the porch, just walk down this way,” the man gestured to his right.

The boy hesitantly got to his feet and glanced back toward the front door. He wasn’t sure how Mamma would feel about this.

“It’s all right,” his uncle promised. “Your mamma won’t be upset. I just need to show you something.”

The boy slowly walked down the porch, eyeing his uncle with a small amount of suspicion. The man stopped and knelt down beside a small bush. He pinched off a leaf and offered to his nephew, “Here, chew on this.”

Nicky gave his uncle a skeptical look. Mamma sure wouldn’t want him chewing on Grandmother’s plants. “I promise,” Nick coaxed, “it’s all right.” The little boy allowed the man to put the leaf in his mouth. “Now just chew on it.”

Wrinkling his nose, he cautiously did as Uncle Nick directed. After a moment, a small smile replaced the frown. “Good,” he announced.

“Tastes a lot better than that old soap, doesn’t it?” his uncle smiled widely. When the little boy nodded, he went on to explain, “This is one of your grandmother’s herbs. Now you’re not supposed to pick them but taking a leaf every once in a while isn’t too bad. It’s called mint and it’s real good for getting bad tastes out of your mouth.”

Nicky continued chewing on the rapidly disappearing leaf for another moment or two, “How’d you know, Uncle Nick?”

“How’d I know about you getting in trouble?”

“No,” the boy shook his head, “about the leafs.”

“Oh, your Grandfather Barkley showed me that trick a lot of years ago when your Grandmother Barkley used to wash my mouth out with soap.”

Nicky’s eyes rounded in wonder and then he covered his mouth as he began to snicker. Grandmother wash out Uncle Nick’s mouth! He couldn’t imagine that; Uncle Nick was so much bigger than Grandmother. He didn’t know how much the return of the gleam to his dancing eyes relieved his Uncle Nick.

“So you’re not going to say any more bad words, right, Nicky?” the man said seriously.

“Not around Mamma,” was the all too honest reply.

Nick struggled to hold back his chuckle, but then a movement off to his left sobered him immediately. Samantha had stepped out on the front porch and was looking down the porch at her youngest son and her brother-in-law. Her expression wasn’t the friendliest. Nick slowly stood and took his hat off. Nicky also stood, clasping his hands behind his back.

Samantha’s eyes moved between the two. Both looked just a little guilty. Finally, she said firmly, “Nicky, your punishment is over. I see Aunt Audra and Tom walking up from the barn. Why don’t you run down to meet them and you can ask Aunt Audra if she would please take you down to see the new foal.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the boy replied very properly. He started to bound off the porch, but he turned to flash her a shy smile and sweetly say, “Sorry, Mamma.”

“It’s all right. Just remember what we said about good boys not saying bad words. Now go on,” she directed him.

The little boy scampered away before his mamma could change her mind. Nick watched him race through the ranch yard to his aunt and brother. After a few moments, the trio headed back toward the barn. The man took a deep breath and slowly turned to face his sister-in-law, who gave him a rather flat stare.

“Sam, I’m real sorry,” Nick started.

“It’s all right, Nick,” she held a hand up.

Her brother-in-law continued with determination, “No, listen, I am sorry. And I promise you I’m gonna try to watch my language around the children.”

“Well, thank you,” she raised her eyebrows slightly.

His hands unconsciously began rotating around his hat brim, “It’s just that I want you to know how much I care for the children. And I promise, I’ll try to be better around them. I’m just hoping you won’t keep them away from me just because I slip every once in a while.”

She now understood his nervousness. She considered teasing him some but then decided better, “Oh, heavens, Nick. I’m not going to keep them away from an uncle who obviously adores them. If I wanted to keep them from hearing bad words, I’d have to send their father someplace else to live. I was just hoping it wouldn’t be my children who were the ones teaching their classmates all the bad words. I guess that’s not going to happen.”

“Sorry, Sam,” Nick gave her a soft smile. “I think it comes with being a Barkley.”

“Hmm,” she shook her head and turned to go back into the house. “By the way, I heard Nicky say he wasn’t going to use those words where I could hear them. Do me a favor, and try to impress upon him it would be best if he never used those words.”

“Yes, ma’am,” her brother-in-law said dutifully even though he knew it would really do no good.

Chapter 10

Peter’s eyes slowly traced the outline of Orion. He closed his eyes and summoned up a picture of Samantha in his mind. He smiled; it was the last time they had been at the ranch together, over the Fourth of July holiday. It was early one morning, in their bedroom, his old bedroom. They had made love and they had taken no “precautions.” Samantha had protested that she didn’t want to be embarrassed by staining the sheets if he withdrew and she maintained that she was so close to her “monthly visitor” that it really wasn’t a “risky” time. Even as he had allowed her to talk him into taking the risk, he had doubted her statement. Shoot, he knew her calendar as well as she did . . . although he sometimes lost track of it in the heat of the moment like when they had made Lizzie V. He figured that morning in July was when they made the baby she was carrying. Well, they weren’t 100 percent sure there was a baby but the earliest signs were there. He thought there was a sort of symmetry to it. Tom had been born in New Orleans and Nicky had been conceived there. Lizzie V. had been born at the ranch and their fourth child had been conceived there. God, he hoped Sam was doing all right. Holding onto the image of her from that day, lying beneath him, her glow from the lovemaking and the soft morning light making her all the more beautiful, he leaned back in the garden chair and took a long pull on his cigar. He savored the taste of the tobacco and slowly blew out a stream of smoke. The soft rustle of taffeta alerted him to his mother’s presence. He forced himself to release the thought and to open his eyes.

“Gene doing all right?” he turned and asked the woman who had always seemed like a pillar of strength to him. In the past few days, he realized that she struggled with the same fears, the same feelings of helplessness as he and Sam sometimes did. It had made him reconsider what she had said about his father, about how the old man had struggled with knowing what to do as a father. Peter had taken some measure of comfort in that knowledge. Maybe, just maybe, with Sam’s help, he might just pull off this raising children thing.

“Sleeping quietly. I’m hopeful he’ll get a few hours of good rest,” she replied.

“Maybe so,” Peter nodded. “He’s due for some good rest. The fever sure has given him some bad nightmares.”

“Fever often does that,” Victoria settled into a chair next to him. “All you children have been that way. Oh, sometimes Heath has had just horrible nightmares.”

The darkness hid Peter’s smile. He liked the way that his mother just lumped Heath in with the rest of her children. She may not have raised him but she certainly mothered him. He finally spoke, “I guess we’ve been pretty lucky with Tom and Nicky. Other than a few bouts of croup, they’ve done pretty good. I was a little worried about Lizzie V. because she was born early but she seems to be thriving just as well as the boys.”

“She had a very good first year,” his mother agreed. “I think that’s a good sign that she’ll continue to do well. I don’t think you and Samantha have anything to worry about with your children. I think you’re blessed with a very healthy family.” She did not dare voice her continuing concern that Samantha or one of the children might have contracted influenza before Peter got them to the ranch. She wasn’t sure whether Jarrod would notify them and there was no need to bring up something that might not ever happen.

Peter sat staring off into the darkness, his mind on something that had happened years before. He wanted to tell his mother that he was worried about his family, particularly about Sam. He was afraid that his wife wasn’t as strong as she sometimes appeared. And right now, oh God, if she had gotten the influenza before she left San Francisco. He shook his head to try to clear away all the dark thoughts. Sam was all right; the children were all right. Jarrod would let him know if there were any problems.

Victoria saw her son shake his head and she reached out to touch his hand, “Darling, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing,” he said quickly, then confessed, “Just thinking back on other times.”

“What other times?” she asked cautiously.

“I’m not supposed to tell you about it,” Peter started and then stopped.

Victoria gave him several moments and then squeezed his hand, “What, darling?”

“Sam didn’t want me to tell you this; she’s afraid that you would worry more about her if, umm, if we ever had another child,” Peter wasn’t quite ready to tell his mother that he and Samantha suspected that another child had indeed already been conceived. For a moment, he wondered, if their suspicions were right, how Samantha was doing. Early pregnancy was always hard on her.

“That her mother died in childbirth?” Victoria thought she understood Samantha’s concern. Often one worried that if a mother died in childbirth, her daughter was at greater risk of suffering the same fate.

“No, I mean that’s true, but that’s not what I was referring to,” her son replied, adding, “How did you know about Lisette?”

“Actually Colonel Markham told me last Christmas when we were in New Orleans,” she patted his arm. “I know it’s worrisome, sweetheart, but Samantha has had no problems with her babies.”

“That’s not quite true, Mother,” Peter whispered.

She caught her breath, but then made herself calm down. Samantha was alive and healthy and happy. Whatever problems had occurred could not have been that serious, but something about Peter’s somber tone made her grip his arm tightly and gently ask, “What happened, darling?”

“When, uh, when Nicky was born, I almost, well, I almost lost them both,” he could think of no way to cushion the statement.

Again, Victoria comforted herself with the knowledge that both her daughter-in-law and her grandson were fine now. “What happened, Peter?” she repeated.

“Ah, well, the thing was that Sam, she thought that after having Tom she knew everything that she needed to know about having babies,” Peter whispered and shook his head again. “Nathaniel had told her she’d done a great job having Tom, especially given he was her first and he was such a big baby. She was pretty dang proud of herself . . . and I was pretty proud of her, too.”

Victoria smiled at the honest statement, remembering how proud she had been of herself when she had presented Tom with another strong, healthy baby. And Tom, well, Tom had always praised her to no end. Those were special moments . . . but that didn’t explain what had happened with Nicky. “Peter?” she gently prodded.

“Well, the thing was that after her doing so well with Tom neither one of us worried about her being able to handle things when the second one was born. She didn’t even tell me when her pains started early that Tuesday morning, just sent me off to work with a smile and a kiss. She had pains all day long but she wouldn’t send anyone for me or the doctor, kept thinking they weren’t strong enough.”

“Sometimes labor does start slowly,” Victoria found herself wanting to reassure her son, but then she realized that was ridiculous. This was something that had happened in the past.

Peter nodded, “When I came home from work that evening, I noticed she was restless. Up and walking around a lot. I just thought it was the baby kicking or something. We didn’t think the baby was due for a couple more weeks, so I wasn’t thinking that she was having pains. We went to bed that night but I felt her get in and out of bed a few times. I thought, well, with all the weight of the baby she often had to get up during the night to umm relieve herself.”

“Now that’s not at all unusual,” Victoria remembered her many nights of interrupted sleep.

“I didn’t realize that she was having pains until I woke up the next morning and found her sitting in her rocker. All I had to do was look at her face to know she hadn’t slept all night and that she was having pains. I jumped out of bed and started getting dressed, but she kept telling me that there was no hurry. That the pains still weren’t that strong. She refused to let me send for Nathaniel, said he deserved to eat his breakfast in peace. She even wanted me to go to work, but I could tell she was already exhausted, I wasn’t about to leave her.”

Victoria watched Peter’s face as his eyes looked back to that day, “The morning just drug by. The pains were hard, but far apart. She just about doze off and another one would hit her. About noon, I sent for Nathaniel, but it was about two hours before he got there. The pains were coming faster and harder and Sam was so tired. I was so worried about her. It was so different from her labor with Tom.”

“Every one of my labors was different,” his mother soothed.

But the words seemed to offer Peter no comfort. His voice still sounded far away, as if he were back in New Orleans on that August day, “When Nathaniel got there, he talked to Sam for a few minutes and then sent me out of the room so he could examine her. The minute he came out of the room I knew. I knew it was bad news.”

Her son fell silent and Victoria allowed him several moments of silence but then gently called to him, “Peter, what was it?”

“He said,” Peter struggled, “he said that the baby was breach, that, that was the reason that her labor was going so slowly.”

“Oh, Peter,” Victoria whispered. Her heart ached for the fear that Peter must have felt.

“Nathaniel swore to me he would do everything to try to get them both through it, but he told me that things didn’t look good and he had to know, if it came down to Sam or the baby, which one did I want him to try to save,” Peter’s voice broke.

His mother leaned across to hug him tightly. Samantha and Nicky were all right, she reminded herself. They both had survived . . . but, again, her pain was for her son, for having to make such a decision, for having to sit alone and wait helplessly.

Peter struggled to continue, “I told Nathaniel to save Sam, that we had Tom. If that was the only child we ever had, that was fine. I would at least have Sam and Tom. Nathaniel told me that Sam had already told him to save the baby, but he promised me that he would do as I asked if it came down to a choice. I didn’t realize it but Nathaniel then sent someone for Suzette. I bet it wasn’t 15 minutes later that she came flying into the house. I thought she was going to go in to be with Sam, but she just sat with me and kept talking. I don’t guess I heard half of what she said, but it was such a comfort to have her with me.”

“That’s why Colonel Markham said that Suzette had a special place in your heart,” Victoria recalled the conversation at Christmas time. At that moment, she had worried that the relationship between Peter and the doctor’s wife might not be proper. Now she understood that it was one based on the closest of friendships. Suzette had been there for Peter in his darkest hour.

Peter nodded, “When I heard Nicky’s first cries, the only thing I could think was that I had lost Sam. I just sat staring at our bedroom door. Suzy kept telling me that this was a good sign. The baby was alive; and Sam was going to be just fine. It seemed like forever before Nathaniel came out. He gave me this little smile and told me that Sam wanted to see me. I could tell by his face that everything wasn’t all right but I just pushed past him to get to Sam. She was so pale and so weak. Her eyes were sunk back and I thought I was going to lose her. She called to me and I took her hand and kissed it and then I kissed her forehead and then gave her the gentlest of kisses on her lips. I could just barely hear her when she asked me if I had seen the baby. Francetta brought the baby over then, red-faced, squalling at the top of its lungs; there didn’t seem to be any doubt that it was all right. Sam’s eyes were barely open when she looked at him but she managed to smile and whisper, ‘Another little boy.’ ‘Another big boy,’ I corrected her. She almost laughed but she was just too exhausted. ‘Name him like we agreed,’ she managed. I could only nod; I was so afraid these were her last words. Then she said, ‘Which brother?’ See, we had agreed that we would name him after Robert and one of my brothers but we hadn’t picked which brother. I took one look at this baby hollering his lungs out and I said, ‘It’s gotta be Nicholas.’”

Despite her distress over Peter’s story, Victoria smiled, “You picked well.”

“Sam apparently agreed because she said, ‘Nicholas Robert.’ I said, ‘I thought his first name was to be Robert and we were going to call him Rob.’ She told me, ‘No, it’s Nicholas Robert and we’re going to call him Nicky.’ And then she just closed her eyes. I thought she had died and I yelled for Nathaniel. He was right there, taking her pulse, telling me she was still with us but that she was very, very sick. He had had to tear her some, getting Nicky out and she’d lost a good bit of blood. And then the fever hit her. I just knew I was going to lose her. For days I just sat beside her bed, so afraid that her next breath was going to be her last one.”

“Oh, Peter, darling, I know it must have been so frightening for you,” she gently rubbed his arm. “I so wish I could have been there for you.”

“You know, I thought about you a lot during those days. I thought, if I lost Sam, then I would bring my two baby boys here and beg you to take them in and raise them. I kept imagining the scene when I arrived here, what kind of reception I would get. I expected that Jarrod or Nick might have married, that there might be cousins for them to be raised with. I hoped that having two new grandsons might help you to forgive me for running away, for not letting you know I was all right, and that you would take them in.”

“Darling, you know you all could have always come back here. We were always here for you.”

“I wasn’t planning on staying,” Peter confessed.

“Peter,” she was horrified. “Your boys would have needed their father.”

“It’s just, I, ah, knew how things were for Sam, how Henri was after he lost Lisette. Sam had an awfully sad childhood . . . I didn’t want my children to grow up that way. I thought it would be best if they weren’t around me.”

“Oh, Peter, that would have been a horrible mistake,” she whispered. “I just thank God that it never came to that.”

“Oh, God, Mother, it was so close,” her son’s voice broke. “She was so sick, so very, very sick. And Nicky, Nicky was sick, too. I didn’t know whom to pray for most.”

“Nicky was sick?” Victoria could not imagine her sturdy young grandson being sick. “You said he was fine when he was born.”

“He was, but Nathaniel put him on a bottle when Samantha couldn’t nurse him and he developed colic. He would just cry and cry and cry. I could see that he was weakening. And poor little Tom, he was so confused by all that was going on. We had made big promises to him about how he was going to get to be the big brother and help his mamma, and now he couldn’t even see his mamma, and his little brother was sick and his pappa was so lost.”

“Oh, my darling, I know how upset you must have been.”

“After five days, Suzy sent me out of the room, told me to go get something to eat and have a drink, that she would watch over Sam and try to get Nicky to take some of his bottle. I wasn’t really hungry but a drink sounded good. I went into my office, put a glass and bottle on my desk, and proceeded to get very, very drunk. I was being a coward; I knew it. I just couldn’t face it any more. I drank until I passed out. I guess everybody figured that was the best place for me, because nobody bothered me. When I woke up, I had a horrible hangover. It took me a bit to get on my feet and to head back upstairs. I knew I needed to check on Sam and Nicky and maybe even try to comfort Tom.”

Peter closed his eyes, remembering the day, “The first thing I realized was that Nicky wasn’t crying. I got this terrible sick feeling. All I could imagine that he was either too weak to cry or we had lost him. I pushed the door to our bedroom open and, and . . . .”

“What, Peter? What was it?”

Peter could not stop the shiver that shot through his body, “Our bed was empty. I couldn’t catch my breath. I thought Sam had died, died while I was so stinking drunk that they couldn’t wake me up to be with her. The pain, the pain was so awful. I gripped the door to keep from falling to my knees. And then I heard her voice, she was calling my name. I thought I was hallucinating, wanting her so badly that I was imagining her voice. I looked over toward the windows and there she sat, in her rocking chair, nursing Nicky.”

“Oh, Peter,” tears slid down Victoria’s cheeks.

“She was fine,” the wonder filled Peter’s voice. “Her fever had broken, and she had told Nathaniel that the only thing that was wrong with Nicky was that he wanted his mamma. She had already nursed him once and had gotten out of bed and gotten him herself to nurse him this time. She’d told Suzy and Nathaniel not to wake me. That I needed my sleep. I walked to her, not really believing the vision until I touched her. And then I just knelt beside her and laid my head in her lap and cried.”

“Oh, my Peter,” Victoria put her arms around her son’s broad shoulders and drew him toward her until he rested his head on her shoulder. “My poor little boy, I know you were so scared. But Samantha was fine, darling, and she showed you how strong she is. You don’t have to worry, she’s going to always be there for you. I just know it.”

And, wanting to believe what she said was true, he leaned into her and accepted the comfort she gave him.

Continued…