The Meaning of Family

Part 2

by Torie

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.

Summary: When Audra Barkley Lightfoot returns to Stockton with her twin children Tommy and Ellen, twelve years after Audra hears a rumor Tom Lightfoot's dead, a racial war starts against the Lightfoot twins and their father who's still alive.

After school Thomas, Ellen, and the cousins were walking along. Thomas held his sister and cousins books, besides his own.

"Well, where to?" Thomas asked, looking at his sister and cousins.

"Let's go to Father's," Matilda said, flipping her black hair over her shoulder.

In front of Jarrod's office Ellen saw her father's horse. She gave a shrill whistle at the sight. "Papa's horse is there!" Ellen said, running excitedly at an unladylike speed.

'Of course he's there. He told us he would be in town when we got out of school. Ellie, slow down! It's too hot to run!" Tommy retorted, trying to catch up to his twin.

Thomas and Ellen entered the office, followed by their cousins. "Hi, Agnes. Is Father in?" Matilda asked Jarrod's secretary.

"Yes. He's with your Uncle Tom," Agnes said, grinning at the happy children with the flushed faces.

Ellen pushed open the door to Jarrod's office with a bang. "Hi Papa! Hi Uncle Jarrod!" Ellen gave both her father and uncle kisses.

"Are you that happy to be out of school, Ellen?" Tom asked, his voice filled with amusement.

"Yep. Actually, I'm happy to see you, Papa," Ellen said, wrapping her thin arms around his neck.

"It's only been a few hours since you last saw me, Ellen," Tom said, confusion entering his dark-brown eyes.

"I never saw you growing up, Papa. I don't want to lose you again," Ellen said, her face turning solemn.

"Does your brother share that sentiment, Ellen?" Tom asked, looking up at his son.

"Do I have to answer that question?" Thomas said, his tone so stiff it nearly caused Tom to wince.

"Yes. You do have to answer that question, Thomas," Tom said, in a voice that was just as equally stiff. It was the first time that Tom had gotten on to his son and surprisingly, it hurt. But Thomas wasn't about to forgive his father.

"No, I don't," Thomas said, his voice still very stiff.

Tom would have said something else when something interrupted it. "Hey Injun Boy!" A coarse voice yelled outside.

Thomas looked toward the window as a rock went through it. Before anyone could react the stone struck Thomas in the head, knocking him out. Thomas collapsed to the floor.

"Tommy!" Ellen screamed, rushing to her brother's side and pressing her handkerchief against the wound above his right eyebrow.

"Matilda, go get Dr. Merar," Jarrod ordered in a tone of voice that no one would argue with.

"Yes, Father," Matilda said, running out of the room.

"Ellen, you're going to have to move. Your father and I have to get your brother to the couch," Jarrod said, touching his niece's shoulder.

Ellen looked over at her father, her blue eyes filled with tears. "Uncle Jarrod, will Tommy be all right?" Ellen asked, her voice cracking with tears.

"Of course he will. Have a little faith. You are his twin sister," Jarrod said, trying to make her feel better.

"I guess I'd better start praying," Ellen said, rubbing her nose against the sleeve of her shirt.

Tom pushed a lock of his son's hair out of his face and listened to his daughter pray. He had no doubts that whoever threw that rock hated Indians, but right now his only concern was that the doctor fixed his son’s head.

Thomas felt himself come back to life by a bright explosion of pain. English and a foreign tongue he didn't know were jabbered close to his ear. The throbbing in his right temple was excruciating. His eyelids felt as if they were weighted down with iron.

It took a few minutes to force them open. After the blur in his eyes settled it took Thomas a few minutes to realize where he was. He was in his room at the Barkley ranch. Something heavy was on his head and he felt hungry.

Audra sat by her son's bed, talking to Victoria. Thomas worked his mouth to try to talk. A soft audible grunt came out. "Mother," Thomas tried again to get his mother's attention.

"Thomas!" Audra sobbed, looking at her son's glassy blue eyes. Audra placed her thin arms on Thomas's broad shoulders.

"What happened?" Thomas asked faintly.

"You were hit at your Uncle Jarrod's office by a rock, Thomas," Victoria answered pushing Thomas's dark brown hair out of his eyes.

"When?" Thomas asked, coming more fully awake.

"A week ago. You've been asleep for a week, Sweetheart," Audra said, gently touching her son's cheek.

At that Thomas started. The movement caused the pain to slam into his forehead. Thomas fell back into his pillows with a groan.

"I heard voices. One was English. The other was foreign," Thomas said, raising his hand to his head.

"That was the doctor and your father's uncle talking. Your uncle doesn't understand English. So he talks only in Modoc," Victoria explained.

Thomas nodded his head, feeling tired again. "Are you hungry, Thomas?" Audra asked, stroking her son's hand with her hand.

Thomas licked his lips and could only nod his head. "I'll go get you some broth," Audra stood up and opened the door.

Tom hadn't left his son's door since they brought him in a week ago. Tom stood as his wife entered the hall. "How is he, Audra?" Tom asked his wife, concern all over his brown eyes.

Audra took a deep breath. It was hard to stay angry with Tom for lying to her and pretending to die. "He's going to be all right, Tom. I'm getting him some broth," Audra said, keeping her voice angry.

"May I see him, Audra? He is my son," Tom said.

"Of course. He may be in too much pain to talk to you, though," Audra said, softening her voice.

Tom opened the door to his son's room. It was the same room that he slept in at the Barkleys when he was a boy. Thomas apparently asked for the same room or Victoria had given Thomas the room without asking which one he wanted.

Tom sat on the bed and touched Thomas's forehead. Thomas turned his head to look at his father. "Hello, Thomas," Tom said to his son, trying to keep his voice low.

"Hello," Thomas said softly, touching the bandage on his head, trying to pull the bandage off.

Tom gripped his son's hand. "Don't do that, Thomas," Tom ordered, holding Thomas's hand firmly against his shoulder.

"My head hurts," Thomas said, too tired and in pain to argue with his father.

"I know it does, but it will pass," Tom said, his voice gentle.

Thomas nodded his head as he drifted off to sleep, his father's hand gently stroking his hand. He had fallen asleep by the time Audra returned with the broth.

Thomas sat up in his bed reading the book "Spartacus" that Uncle Jarrod had given him. Because of headaches during the day, the doctor had said that he shouldn't get out of bed for two more weeks.

Thomas found himself liking the Greek slave who stood against the empire that had enslaved him. Spartacus, to Thomas's mind, was brave and noble. Exactly what Thomas wanted himself to be like. He was thinking about Spartacus's strong personality when the door to his room opened.

Tom Lightfoot and his son still weren't getting along too well. It was pretty bad when a person's temper was inherited from his father and Tom and Thomas knew that very well.

"Hello, Thomas," Tom said, sitting in a chair across from his son.

Thomas lifted his eyes briefly over his book to look at his father. He lowered his eyes back to his book, reading about one of Spartacus's battles.

"Spartacus." I read that when I was in college," Tom said, trying to get his son to talk to him.

"I like him," Thomas said, turning the page.

"Why?" Tom asked, causing his son to look up.

"He's noble and brave. I always liked characters like Spartacus and Ben-Hur. I wished I was brave like them," Thomas said, letting his father see past the wall he had erected about him.

"You are brave, my son. Very brave. You have handled your illness as well as any Modoc warrior," Tom said, hoping his son accepted the compliment.

A faint grin tugged at the corners of Thomas's mouth. "That's encouraging. You want to know why I always got into so many fights?" Thomas asked, resting the book on the night table.

"No. Why?" Tom asked.

"I think in my heart I always knew that I was half-Indian. I felt that if a person hurt me I had to fight back," Thomas said, his eyes watering a little.

Tom smiled and placed his hand on his son's neck. "Thomas, fighting is not a way to accomplish anything. I had to learn that the hard way when I got shot out at Fort Barkley. My son, fighting is what caused you to have a rock thrown at you. It was not worth it. You could have died," Tom said, his voice blunt.

Thomas looked into his father's brown eyes. "Is it wrong for me to admire men like Spartacus and Ben-Hur?" Thomas asked, sounding as if he was not offended by his father's reprimand.

"No. Admire their courage and nobility. They stood for what they believed was right, but don't hurt a person just for the sake of hurting them. You are a better person than that, Thomas Lightfoot," Tom said, his words striking Thomas like a thunderbolt.

"Thank you for the advice. May I go back to my book please?" Thomas asked, not sounding rude for the first time since he had met his father.

"Of course. If you feel well enough to come downstairs for supper, maybe I'll teach you how to throw a tomahawk," Tom said, kissing his son's head, through his hair.

"Okay," Thomas sounded distracted as he got lost in the book.

Thomas waited until his father shut the door to his room and he no longer heard his father's footsteps walking down the hall.

Thomas slowly got up, feeling dizziness and nausea hit him all at once. Thomas went to his closet and changed out of his nightclothes and into some Modoc clothing that his father's aunt had made for him to wear.

As he buttoned up the leather vest he looked at his reflection in the mirror. He looked like his father and great-uncle. If his dark hair was longer and his eyes brown, instead of blue, he could very easily be mistaken for an Indian.

Thomas slipped out of the door, hoping that no one caught him out of his bed. The doctor had said that a dizzy spell could kill him if he wasn't careful.

Thomas would have continued to walk down the back stairs, when he felt a hand touch his shoulder. Thomas started and turned to face the worried look on Ellen's face.

"Tommy, what are you doing? And what are you wearing?" Ellen asked, having the sense to whisper.

"I have to get out of this house. I was thinking of going for a ride and I decided that the clothes Aunt Ruth made for me would suffice," Thomas said, hoping the explanation would be sufficient for his twin.

"What happens when Mother and Papa realize you're gone? I can't stand there and lie to them," Ellen asked, worry reflected in her blue eyes.

"I'm not asking you to lie. Just tell them I've gone for a ride," Thomas said, his voice strained with impatience.

"It's your funeral, Tommy. You just better hope Mother and Papa don't get as mad as Uncle Nick when they've heard what you've done," Ellen said with resignation.

"Thanks, Ellie," Thomas said, running down the back stairs, remembering to hold on to the handrail in case he fell.

Ellen stood there feeling like she had made one of the worst mistakes of her life. Maybe she should tell her father what Thomas was doing, but then her twin would be mad at her. She just didn't know what to do.

Ellen sat twirling a lock of dark hair around her finger. Thomas was fashionably late coming home. She hoped he hadn't had one of his headaches and dizzy spells while riding.

Her father was talking to Jarrod about how to better help the Modocs. It was still very odd to think of the Modocs as her people, but her father had tactfully reminded her often that as long as she was his daughter the Modoc blood ran in her veins.

Ellen tried to put her attention back on her book. "The Count of Monte Cristo" just wasn't that interesting of a book today. Matilda sat across from her cousin and gently tugged one of Ellen's dark braids.

"What's wrong, Cousin?" Matilda asked, her ice-blue eyes concerned.

"I can't tell you," Ellen said, not meeting her cousin's eyes.

That simple answer stopped all conversation in the room. Tom and Audra looked over at their daughter. Tom stooped down so he could look Ellen in the eye.

"What's wrong, Ellen?" Tom asked, his parental concern showing in his eyes.

Ellen turned pain-wracked eyes away from her father. "I can't tell you. I gave Tommy my word," Ellen whispered, not trusting herself to answer any louder.

"Ellen, is Thomas in trouble?" Audra asked.

Ellen turned to her mother, a lone tear streaking down her face. "I'd tell you if I could, Mother. But I promised!" Ellen protested.

"Ellen, if it causes you pain then you aren't held to that promise," Tom gently rebuked his daughter.

"But when you promise something to your twin you have to keep that promise," Ellen said, switching her gaze to her father.

"That's true to a point, Ellen. If Thomas is doing something wrong then you have to tell. What's wrong, Ellen?" Tom asked, gently, massaging her face with the palm of his hand.

Ellen looked down, feeling her throat ache. "Tommy's gone," Ellen said, her voice cracking.

"Gone?" Audra asked incredulously.

"What do you mean gone, Ellen?" Tom asked at the same time, his voice getting angry.

Ellen took one look at her father's eyes and lowered her eyes. It was like looking at Uncle Jarrod and Uncle Nick. She could never meet their eyes when they were mad.

"He left 5 hours ago dressed in the clothes Aunt Ruth gave him. He said he wanted to go for a ride and he was sick of his room," Ellen said, looking at the cover of the book on the table.

"Why didn't you try to talk him out of it?" Nick exploded, jumping into the conversation.

"I couldn't. Tommy is too much like a Barkley or a Lightfoot. He never listens to a doctor's orders. Honestly I'm worried," Ellen admitted.

The door opened. Thomas walked in, not paying any attention to anyone in the parlor.

"Thomas!" Audra jumped up and ran to her son, hugging him like he had been gone a year instead of five hours.

"I wasn't gone that long, Mother," Thomas said, surprised at his mother's reaction.

"You scared us half to death! And you had your sister lie for you!" Audra said, her relief turning to anger.

Thomas looked over at his twin. She was looking at him with an apologetic look in her blue eyes. "I'm sorry," Ellen mouthed.

Thomas nodded his head and looked at his father. By the look in his father's eyes he was really going to be getting a lecture for this

Tom gripped his son's arm and dragged him to the study. Thomas was surprised by the viselike grip holding his elbow. It was like tempered steel.

Tom released his son's arm and shut the door to the study firmly. When he turned to look his son in the eyes there was a look of outrage. When he spoke his voice was calm.

"What were you thinking, Thomas Lightfoot?" Tom asked, surprised at the calmness of his tone.

Thomas looked at his father and bit his lower lip. This way he wouldn't have to answer. He looked down again at his Indian moccasins. The bead design was very nice. When he had ridden out to the reservation he had remembered to thank Aunt Ruth for the shoes. Of course I had to have a translator, Thomas thought, slightly amused.

It was a pain being half- Modoc and not knowing the language. "I asked you a question, Thomas. And also why are you wearing the clothes that your aunt gave you?" Tom asked, forcing his boy's chin up with his hand.

"Why do you ask me that? Why do you wear white man's clothes sometimes? I wear these because I felt like it!" Thomas said, a little snidely than he should have answered.

Tom's face hardened slightly. "I am still your father. You have no right to talk like that, Thomas," Tom said, gripping his son's face hard with his hand.

Thomas's face flinched slightly as his father's grip became harder than tempered steel.

"I had to ride out to the reservation and I lost track of time," Thomas finally admitted ruefully.

"I thought you had no interest in being an Indian, Thomas?" Tom asked, surprised.

"I didn't. But when I hear Ellie talk about how we should show some interest in our Indian roots, I had to," Thomas said, scuffing the toe of his moccasin against his leather-clad leg.

"I did volunteer to teach you how to throw a tomahawk. Did you have to risk your health to go outside?" Tom asked, remembering that his son had endangered his health and dragged his sister into lying for him.

"I never asked for a father, so back off!" Thomas said angrily.

Tom's jaw tightened slightly at his son's moody behavior. His son was just being insufferable now. He was acting like a brat instead of almost fifteen.

Tom's anger turned to concern as his son grabbed his head and collapsed to the ground. "Thomas!" Tom exclaimed, stooping next to his son and gripping Thomas's broad shoulder.

Thomas held on to his forehead with one hand and his father's shoulder with the other. Tom drew his son into his arms and held him tight. With Thomas tightly squeezing his shoulder, Tom could feel the boy's pain.

'It's all right. It's all right," Tom said, gently smoothing a shock of brown hair away from his son's eyes.

Tom helped his son stand to his feet and flung his arm around Thomas's shoulders.

"I'm sorry," Thomas breathed in a ragged voice.

'It's all right. I should be a little more patient with you," Tom said, squeezing his son's shoulder gently.

Thomas nodded his head and felt himself faint away into a peaceful, blessed darkness where at the moment he felt absolutely no pain in his head whatsoever.

Thomas laid on his bed as Dr. Merar took off the bandage on his head and cleaned the deep scar the rock had made. The pain in his head made it hard not to scream out in pain.

Tom Lightfoot held his son's hand in both of his hands and nearly flinched every time his son winced with pain. Thomas bit his lip hard as the doctor put some medicine on the cut.

When he finished he stood there glowering at Thomas. The old man crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, I hope you have learned your lesson, Thomas Lightfoot. If you don't want this to happen again, you'd do well to follow my orders and stay in bed," the doctor said sternly.

"I guess I don't have much choice," Thomas said weakly.

"Doctor, how long are the headaches and dizzy spells going to last?" Tom asked, truly worried for his son's health.

"If he follows my orders and doesn't get up before they stop; a week at least," the doctor guessed.

'A week? I can't stay in bed a whole week!" Thomas said, propping up on his elbows.

"If you want to get another headache and dizzy spell that could kill you, then get out of your bed right now," the doctor said, his patience wearing thin with his difficult patient.

"That's not necessary. He'll stay in bed this time. Even if I have to lock him in," Tom said, giving his son a look that meant he was serious.

"Tom, give him this sedative. It should help him to sleep tonight," Doctor Merar said, handing Tom a dark brown bottle.

"I'll do that. How much should I give him?" Tom asked, looking at the bottle.

"I'd say a teaspoon should be effective," Doctor Merar said, putting his instruments in his black bag.

Tom nodded his head as the doctor left the room. Audra, Ellen, and the rest of the family stood outside Thomas's room, desperate for news on how he was.

"Doctor?" Audra asked, afraid for her son.

'He'll be all right as long as he follows orders and doesn't overexert himself," Dr. Merar said, hoping that bit of news would cheer Audra up.

"Can we see him?" Jarrod asked.

"I don't see why not. Thomas may be too exhausted to talk much. So don't stay long," Dr. Merar warned.

Everyone entered the small cubicle that was Thomas's bedroom. No one had seen him since his collapse in the study and everyone was worried. Thomas already had a quilt on him, but that didn't stop Audra from placing another quilt at the foot of his bed.

"How are you feeling, Thomas?" Audra asked, smoothing her son's head with her cool, soft hand.

"Not so good. My head hurts and I'm seeing double of everything," Thomas groaned, closing his eyes tight and then opening them again.

"It'll pass. I hope you learned a lesson today, Thomas," Audra said, her voice turning motherly.

"Yes, Ma'am. I've learned that if I ever go back to the reservation I'll do it when I'm all well," Thomas said respectfully.

"And?" Audra and Tom prodded at the same time.

"And I won't drag my sister into lying for me," Thomas said, hoping that they would forget that he had done that.

"Very good. Now do you have any strength to eat dinner?" Audra asked, feeling stupid for asking.

"Yes. I'd like a steak and some potatoes," Thomas said, knowing that was a request that might not be filled.

'You dream, Tommy," Ellen said, her blue eyes laughing at him.

"It was worth a shot any way," Thomas said, feeling himself fall asleep. Everyone walked out except Tom. He stood there watching his son sleep. He remembered his son saying he was sorry. Sorry for ignoring him? Or was Thomas sorry for what he did this afternoon. Tom figured that he'd know when Thomas was all better. Or maybe he wouldn't.

A few days of bed rest and Thomas was walking around the house, feeling much better.

Jarrod and Tom had spent that time going over a treaty that the House over in Sacramento had sent to Tom to revise. Audra spent her time sewing for Mrs. Stewart's new baby. Ellen spent time reading her books on different Indian tribes in North America, and their cousins usually went to school or did chores.

Thomas would have gone out to help Uncle Nick and Uncle Heath with the chores, but his father and mother wouldn't have approved. When Thomas asked his mother if he could go out she had flat-out refused. She said until they knew for sure that he wouldn't relapse, he'd better sit down and read a book.

Thomas entered the study. Jarrod was sitting in his leather chair, while Tom sat perched on the desk. They appeared to be arguing about something.

Tom looked up to see his son standing in front of him and Jarrod. Tom pushed a lock of dark brown hair out of his eyes. After so many years his long hair still had a tendency to fall in his face, to his annoyance.

"Aren't you supposed to be resting?" Jarrod asked, looking up also at his nephew.

The look on Thomas's face was enough to suggest that his uncle had lost his mind to say that.

"If you really cared you wouldn't say that, Uncle Jarrod. I've had it up to here with that room!" Thomas said, putting his hand to his throat.

''Thomas, it's not that bad," Tom said, his voice slightly strained.

"Easy for you to say," Thomas muttered under his breath.

"Thomas, would you like to stay in here with us? I know I have a copy of "Ben-Hur" on my shelf over there," Jarrod said, pointing to the shelf with his chin.

"We-ell I haven't finished "Spartacus" yet, Uncle Jarrod. Can I run upstairs and get it?" Thomas asked, cocking his head to the side. It was one of those traits that he had picked up from the Barkley side of the family. Jarrod did it often.

"Of course. You can read in here if you don't mind hearing two lawyers argue," Jarrod said, his blue eyes twinkling.

Thomas left the room. Just as the door clicked shut, Tom turned to Jarrod, his brown eyes fierce. "Jarrod, he should be resting!" Thomas said, his voice just as fierce as his eyes.

"Tom, your son is a lot like you, but he's a Barkley too. He doesn't want to spend any more time resting in his room. Your son is also like Nick and Heath when it comes to being sick. He's not willing to rest anymore either," Jarrod said, dipping his pen in the inkwell.

"Jarrod, what happens if he relapses? I just found my son, daughter, and wife and I don't wish to lose any of them," Tom said, voicing his worries for the first time.

"Tom, why didn't you tell me you were afraid of losing them?" Jarrod asked, his blue eyes concerned for his brother-in-law.

"I don't know. I feel happy knowing that I have my son and daughter, but I feel like I have to be strict with them to keep from losing either of them," Tom said, sitting down in the chair across from Jarrod's desk.

"Tom, you aren't going to lose them. Thomas and Ellen love you. I've seen how Ellen adores you and Thomas looks at you when he thinks you aren't looking," Jarrod said, putting a hand on Tom's broad shoulder.

"I know Ellen loves me, but I wish I could be certain of her brother. He acts like he hates me half the time," Tom said ruefully.

"He doesn't hate you. If he hated you he'd refuse to talk to you," Jarrod said, making a lot of sense.

Tom would have answered if Thomas hadn't entered the room with his book. He sat down on the leather couch and started to read the book without talking to either Jarrod or Tom. Jarrod and Tom went back to their paperwork and Thomas read for the next two hours until lunchtime.

Thomas had just laid down "Spartacus" when his twin and Matilda entered the study. Matilda ran to Jarrod while Ellen went to Tom.

Ellen had her hair arranged where it was covering her face. Tom tried to push back her long dark hair, but Ellen stepped back, hiding her face with her hands.

"What's wrong, Ellie?" Thomas asked, knowing that his sister wouldn't lie to him.

"Nothing," Ellen said in a flat voice. It sounded as if her voice had been ironed.

"Ellen, what happened?" Tom asked, seeing through the lie.

Ellen looked up at her father through the hair and switched her eyes to Uncle Jarrod and Matilda.

"I got hit in the face by a dodge ball," Ellen said, not meeting her father's dark eyes.

"Hit by a dodge ball? How did you manage that?" Jarrod asked, concerned.

"She didn't really, Papa," Matilda said, looking at her cousin as if she were an idiot.

"Ellen Victoria Lightfoot, I am not in any mood for lies. Now what happened?" Tom asked sternly.

"Johnny Kemptor. He stuck his feet out in the aisle and tripped me. I hit my face on one of the desks," Ellen said, looking at her father. Through the hair covering her face she looked annoyed at having to tell anyone what happened.

"Are you all right?" Thomas asked, stepping beside his twin.

"My face hurts a little and I have never been more humiliated in my life," Ellen said tightly.

Thomas reached out and gently pushed his sister's long brown hair away from her face. A hideous welt was right below her left eye. It had been scratched and it looked as if it were starting to turn black and blue. Tom gently touched the welt with his fingers. Ellen winced slightly.

"Does it still hurt, Ellie?" Thomas asked a rhetorical question.

"A little," Ellen said cryptically.

"This is really the last straw!" Thomas said, his face turning red with anger.

"What do you mean, Thomas?" Jarrod asked, knowing full well that his nephew would beat up Johnny Kemptor for this.

"Hitting me with a rock wasn't enough, Uncle Jarrod. He obviously thinks that tripping my twin is going to rid that school of all Modoc Indians," Thomas said, exasperated.

"Thomas, the best thing you could do is ignore him. If I had ignored Lil Bailey and the Watsons then I wouldn't have gotten shot that night at Fort Barkley," Tom reprimanded his son.

Thomas's ire then turned to his father. "Yeah right," Thomas said sarcastically. Thomas walked away, angry tears welling up in his eyes.

Tom practically ran to catch up to his son, and pulled him into his arms. Thomas tried to break free, but Tom held him tight.

"Let go," Thomas hissed angrily.

"No. We are going to talk right now, Thomas Lightfoot. You are going to listen to your father this time and no talking back," Tom said, in a tone of voice that Thomas wouldn't argue with.

Tom dragged his son outside and both sat down on a bench in Victoria's rose garden.

Tom looked at his son, feeling all his frustrations at his son come back. "Thomas, why do you ignore me?" Tom asked, his eyes looking into his son's eyes.

"I don't know," Thomas lied, hoping his father wouldn't see it for the lie that it was.

"Thomas, I'm a lawyer. I know when someone's lying to me. How about you tell me the truth," Tom said, sighing with exasperation.

Thomas knew the truth might hurt his father, but Tom asked for it. "You want the truth? Here it is. I wish I hadn't been born half-Indian. I even wish I could go back to when I didn't know I was half-Indian. It was easier on me knowing that I was white," Thomas said, his voice cracking with bitterness.

"You can't change that, Thomas. You are always going to be half-Indian," Tom said, finally relieved he was getting past the wall Thomas had built around himself.

"I know," Thomas said, still bitter.

Tom ran his hand through his son's close-cropped hair. "You don't still resent me for coming into your life, do you?" Tom asked.

"I don't know. I don't know if I want a father though," Thomas admitted, looking up at his father.

Tom closed his eyes briefly to hide the pain. "How about a friend instead of a father?" Tom asked, opening his eyes.

"I guess I could always use a friend. Do I still have to call you Father?" Thomas asked, the anger in his eyes fading.

"Of course you do. I may be your friend, but I am still your father. Can you live with that, Thomas?" Tom asked, hoping his son didn't think him too strict.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean you can tell me what to do," Thomas said, giving off one more sarcastic remark.

“Maybe not, but I will always love you and your sister. And now I think it's time to eat. Come be poisoned by your mother's cooking like a good little boy," Tom teased, her dark brown eyes dancing.

Thomas snorted, trying to hold back a laugh. Tom threw his arm over his son's shoulder. Thomas threw his arm around his father's back and the two walked back to the house, thinking that they had made a breakthrough in their relationship as father and son.

Thomas and Tom got along a little bit better after that. Tom's overprotective nature was growing on his son. It still caused some slight annoyance, but it wasn't as bad as it was when they first arrived in Stockton.

Tom would also take the part out of every day to teach his son how to be a Modoc and to speak the language. Thomas learned the language so quick his mind was like a sponge; absorbing every word.

Ellen was also making an effort on how to be Modoc and, with the help of Aunt Ruth and a translator, she also learned quickly.

Two days before the twins' birthday Tom was teaching his son how to fish. Tom stood up to his ankles in water and his son sat on a log. Tom wasn't even using a hook and worm. He used his bare hands to catch fish.

"I didn't know you could catch fish with your hands, Father," Thomas said, finding the Indian way of fishing interesting.

"Our people have done it for thousands of years. All boys by your age already know how to do it," Tom said, keeping his eyes on the water.

"Do you think I could do it, Father?" Thomas asked, cocking his head in his "Jarrod Barkley" expression. The expression was one of amusement to Tom and his son, so they called it a "Jarrod Barkley" expression. Jarrod was the only member of the family that did it.

'I think you could, but you have to learn how to be patient. 9 out of 10 times you miss the fish," Tom said, abruptly thrusting his hands into the lake and throwing a rainbow trout out into the grass next to his son.

Thomas looked at the fish next to him. "Wow!" Thomas said, a look of pure happiness in his dark blue eyes.

"I know what you mean. The first time I caught a fish I had just seen your grandfather do it and I was very impressed," Tom said, hiding his happiness that Thomas had actually smiled at him.

Ellen and Thomas had great smiles. Tom had never liked his smile that much, but Thomas had inherited his smile from his Uncle Nick and Ellen had gotten hers from her mother.

"May I try it?" Thomas asked, standing up.

"Of course. I'd remove my shoes if I were you. If you ruin them your mother will be mad at us for a week," Tom said, smiling at the last part of that comment.

Thomas sat back down and removed his dark-brown leather boots and stockings. He stepped into the freezing cold lake and held his hands out above the surface as he had seen his father do.

"Now all you do is just wait. The fish should come to you, Thomas," Tom instructed.

Thomas licked his lips and waited five minutes before a fish came. Thomas reached out and grabbed tight hold of the slippery bass. The wiggling fish fought so hard it knocked Thomas back into the river, soaking him. Thomas still wouldn't let go and threw the fish over to the ground.

Tom's laughter rang out over the trees and sky as he took a look at his soaking-wet son. Thomas took one look at his wet clothes and tried to run his hands through his wet dark hair. Thomas started to laugh as well.

"Are you all right, Thomas?" Tom asked, trying to catch his breath.

Thomas stood up and tried to shake the drops of water out of his hair. He took one look at the lake and his father. He put his hands in the water and flung it at Tom. The water hit Tom square in the face. Thomas started to laugh again at the mock-indignation on his father's face.

Tom scooped up some water in his hand and flung it at Thomas. Thomas ducked and with a splash it hit someone behind them. Thomas grinned when he saw Nick and Heath Barkley on top of their horses. Nick's face was sopped with water. Thomas started to laugh uncontrollably. Thomas had seen bears with kinder eyes. Thomas fell into the lake again, practically in stitches.

"I'm sorry, Nick. I was teaching Thomas how to fish," Tom said, trying hard not to laugh at Nick's expression either. One look at Heath's eyes told Tom that he found the situation very funny.

Nick dismounted and scooped up a handful of water. Before anyone could think he tossed it into Heath’s face.

“What did you do that for?” Heath asked, the smug grin wiped from his face.

"Why'd you laugh at me for?" Nick asked, his voice sounding every bit like that of an old hibernating bear.

Thomas, his father, and uncles started to laugh. Nick was gruff at times, but he didn't mean it. If only the town would be nice to Thomas and Ellen. Ellen said she prayed every night for a miracle. Thomas prayed that the miracle would happen soon.

Tom, Heath, Nick, and Thomas all entered the house, hoping that no one would catch them sopping wet. While throwing water from the lake at each other had been fun, the women might have seen it as four little boys that needed to act their ages.

There would be no such luck. As they entered the house Ellen was coming down the hallway. An incredulous look entered her dark blue eyes. "What happened to all of you?" Ellen asked, looking first at her father and brother and switching her gaze to Heath and Nick.

"Father, was teaching me how to fish," Thomas said, realizing how lame that sounded to his twin.

"Did you catch the fish or did it throw you in the water?" Ellen asked, her voice amused.

"Ha ha ha," Thomas said, pushing a wet lock of dark hair out of his eyes.

"And how did you get wet, Papa? Somehow I don't think fishing knocked you into the lake," Ellen said, turning to Tom.

"It didn't. Your brother splashed me with water and when I retaliated I accidentally hit Nick. He then threw water at Heath," Tom said, giving the full account to his daughter.

Ellen's practically turned purple trying not to laugh. "If I were you I'd get upstairs before, Mother, Nana, and Aunts Annie and Lily catch you," Ellen said, biting her lip really hard to keep from laughing.

This hint of advice came too late. As soon as the words were out of Ellen's mouth, Audra, Victoria, Lily, and Annie came down the hallway.

"What in the world-" Lily started as she looked at Nick.

Nick looked at his wife, running his hands through his dark wet hair. "I can explain, Lil," Nick said, interrupting his wife before she got mad.

"I'm waiting Nicholas," Lily said after a few minutes, her lips compressed into thin lines.

"It was my fault, Lily. I was teaching Thomas how to fish and all of us threw water at each other," Tom said, coming to Nick's defense.

Audra shook her head in disbelief. "I don't know who's the bigger baby; my husband or my son," Audra said, her voice tight with anger.

After the past few weeks Tom knew full well that Audra was still furious with him for hiding the fact that he was alive. If Tom had to do it over again he wouldn't have done that to Audra or his children.

"Audra!" Victoria reprimanded. This was not the time or the place for such an argument. Especially with Thomas and Ellen hearing every word. If those twins heard every word they might blame themselves for the argument and being born.

Audra took a deep sigh, trying to dispel her anger. "Go up stairs and get cleaned up for dinner," Audra said, looking at Thomas.

"Yes Ma'am," Thomas said, running upstairs to his room. "I'm going to go help Matilda muck out the stables, Mother," Ellen said, looking at first her father and then her mother.

Ellen knew her mother was angry with her father, but that both tried to protect her from hearing them argue. Tom still loved her mother, but Audra went around the house with clenched teeth and strained smiles. It didn't take a genius to realize that Audra was really angry with her husband. Ellen hoped her parents wouldn't get a divorce.

If they did would that mean that Ellen and Thomas would never see their father again? Ellen didn't want to lose her father. She just wanted him around for the rest of her life. She loved him. It would not be fair for Audra to take the twins away from their father. He had to have felt the same way.

Ellen sat in the chair in front of her vanity, brushing out her long dark-brown hair. Her Indian hair. She didn't know how she could not have seen her Indian looks sooner. The dark skin and hair would have made it obvious.

Ellen felt herself start to cry as she looked her reflection in the mirror. A lone tear streaked down her cheek and splashed on the hands holding the brush in front of her face.

Since Thomas had gotten hurt she had had a lot of time to think of her new status as half-Modoc, half-White. A month ago she would have been happy to know that she was Indian. But since Thomas had gotten hurt she had to reevaluate what being half-Indian meant.

She wasn't sure now if she wanted to be half-Indian. She loved her father, but she wondered if being full-blooded Modoc was ever a strain on him. Ellen's sobs shook her shoulders and she put her head on the vanity and cried as if her heart would break.

A knock on the door stopped her in mid-sob. "Who is it?" Ellen called out through her tears.

"Matilda. It's time for dinner, Ellen," Matilda called through Ellen's door.

Ellen wiped the back of her hand across her tear-stained cheeks and opened the door to her room. Matilda stood there, twirling a lock of her black hair around her finger.

"Are you all right?" Matilda asked, taking a good look at her cousin's red face.

"Yes," Ellen said shortly, not wishing to talk about this to her cousin.

The two cousins walked down in silence. Matilda kept looking over at her cousin, concern etched on her face.

The girls walked wordlessly into the parlor, which was full of grownups and cousins and Ellen's brother. Ellen sat on the footstool in front of the fire a look of complete despair written in her face.

Tom looked over at his daughter. She had a deep frown on her face and was sniffling as if she were trying not to cry. That wasn't being done well. One tear fell down her face as she looked into the fireplace.

Tom stooped next to her and gently pushed back some of her hair. "Ya know, if you frown like that, your face will freeze permanently," Tom tried to joke. He hoped that would bring a smile to her face.

Ellen avoided looking at him. "Go away," Ellen said, her voice low.

""Ellen, don't be like this. What's wrong?" Tom asked, the levity gone out of his voice.

"Nothing. I have an allergy," Ellen said, trying to wipe her face with her hand.

Audra looked at her daughter and wrapped her arm around Ellen's slender shoulders. "Ellen, what's wrong? Are you sick?" Audra asked, running her fingers through Ellen's hair.

"I'm all right! I have an allergy, okay?" Ellen asked, her voice raising to a scream as she bolted out of the chair and out the front door.

Everyone looked at each other, confused at why Ellen was so upset. Audra hoped that it wasn't that argument that she had almost had with Tom in front of the twins. She would have laughed if she had known that was what Tom was thinking.

Ellen sat in front of her grandfather's grave in the Indian cemetery south of town. The graves weren't really kept up that well here as the White cemetery north of town. It wasn't right that even in death the Moods were still not given the respect that a dead man, woman, or child should have had.

Ellen traced the rough letters spelling out her grandfather's name on the crude marker; JOHN LIGHTFOOT. Ellen wished her grandfather had lived to see her father married and have children of his own.

Ellen found herself thinking of her Indian blood. She didn't really despise it, but she couldn't say that she liked it, as much as she did when she found out she was half-Indian. Tommy getting hurt had caused her to think about the altercations of being an Indian. The main one being that, like her father, she would be hated by most white people.

True, there were a few that didn't hate Indians. Her mother's family, for one. Her mother must have loved her father to marry him. Ellen realized she was getting nowhere by just sitting there. Her mother had to be worried sick about where she was.

Ellen stood up and started to walk back to the Barkley ranch. Since she had run all the way to town she hadn't bothered to take a horse with her. Ellen stopped at a water pump to douse her sweaty face with water.

A slight whimper caught her attention. Ellen looked down at a scrawny little dog. It's matted black coat was full of briars and its eyes were red rimmed with tiredness. Ellen felt sorry for the poor dog.

"Hey there, little guy. Are you all right?" Ellen asked, stooping in front of the dog and scratching the dog's ears.

The dog stopped whimpering and started to lap at Ellen's face and hands. In spite of herself Ellen started to laugh. The first laugh she had done in weeks.

Would you like to come home with me? With a few good meals I'm sure my mother would let me keep you. You look as sad as I feel, Boy. You can be my friend," Ellen said, standing up and striking her leg to get the dog to follow her.

The dog followed her as if she had been his master all his life. "I wonder what I should call you? Coal?" Ellen asked reflexively.

The dog yipped with joy. "That's it! Coal," Ellen said, scratching behind the dog's ears again. The Barkley ranch came into view five minutes later.

Ellen felt her insides lurch as she thought of facing her mother and father. She had run out of the room in tears. She hoped they had understood why.

Ellen gently opened the door, Coal following her obediently inside. Coal squatted on his haunches as she paused in the doorway to the parlor.

Thomas was the first one to see her. "Mother, look!" Audra and tom looked up to see their daughter and a coal-black dog next to her.

"Ellen?" Audra asked, her voice trembling. She ran to her daughter and wrapped her arms around her.

"Mother, I'm sorry," Ellen whispered in her mother's ear.

Tom wondered if he should hug and kiss her or spank her for pulling this running away stunt, when he noticed the dog. Coal stepped behind Ellen's legs. It was as if the dog thought she could protect him. Coal whimpered slightly, causing Ellen to look down at her new friend.

"What's the matter, Coalie?" Ellen asked, scratching the dog's head.

The dog lapped her face eagerly. "Ellen, don't let him lick your face," Audra reprimanded.

"Don't worry, Mother. He's very gentle. He met me on my way out of Stockton. Can I keep him?" Ellen asked, looking up at her mother.

"That will be your father's decision," Audra said, looking over at her husband.

Tom felt at a loss. The happiness in his daughter's eyes was hard to say no to, but if the dog was unhealthy Tom didn't know how to tell her she couldn't keep it. This was one day that Tom didn't like being a father. Too many hard decisions were in it.

Tom looked first at his daughter and then at the dog. The dog was whining slightly and leaned against Ellen's leg as if it were frightened of all the strangers it was looking at. Tom looked back at Ellen.

She had stopped crying and was gently stroking the top of the dog's head. Tom didn't know what to say. If he told Ellen that she couldn't keep the dog she would get upset. Funnily enough Tom felt that his daughter probably needed this dog to be her friend.

"Ellen, I don't know," Tom said doubtfully.

"Please, Papa? He's all alone and I promise I'll take good care of him. Besides he won't make fun of me like this town does," Ellen said, a trace of bitterness entering her voice.

"Ellen?" Audra asked, putting her arms around her daughter's shoulders.

"I didn't want anyone to know that was what I was crying about," Ellen said, looking down at her booted feet.

""Ellie?" Thomas asked, concern showing in his dark blue eyes.

"I guess I've been thinking a lot since you got hurt. When we found out that we were half-Modoc I thought nothing could hurt us. Maybe I should just face the truth as it is," Ellen said, her voice sad and despairing.

'What, Ellen?" Uncle Heath wanted to know.

"That Tommy and me are outcasts," Ellen said, sounding dull for the first time since she entered the room.

"You are not outcasts! You are a part of the Barkley family and one thing about Barkleys is that they don't sit down and feel sorry for themselves, Ellen Victoria Lightfoot," Victoria reprimanded, jumping into the conversation.

Ellen looked over at her grandmother. Victoria was angry and her gray eyes were evidence of that.

"Nana, no one is ever going to consider my white blood. All they are going to see is that my hair is dark-brown and my skin color is dark as any of the Modoc race," Ellen said, a look of total helplessness in her eyes.

"You shouldn't care what other people think of you, Ellen. You are a sweet, kind girl. God just made you part Indian," Victoria said, softening her voice.

Ellen looked back at her father. "I just went to the Indian cemetery and I noticed that none of the graves are fixed yup that well. Uncle Jarrod, can we fix all the graves with proper head markers?" Ellen asked, turning her attention to Jarrod.

"I don't see why not. What about it, Tom? Your daughter has a real good idea. Why don't we fix the Indian cemetery?" Jarrod asked, looking at his brother-in-law.

"I'm all right with that idea. Do the rest of you feel the same?" Tom asked, looking at everyone.

Heads nodded in agreement. Thomas's eyes lit up and a slow smile spread across his face. "I have a brilliant idea!" Thomas exclaimed.

"What, Tommy?" Ellen asked, turning to her twin.

'Why don't we go to the reservation and get our people to help us clean up the graveyard?" Thomas asked, causing everyone to look at him.

"Thomas, that is a good idea!" Audra said, kissing her son's cheek.

"Thank you, Mother. Now will you and Ellie admit I'm a genius?" Thomas said, with an impish grin.

'Nope, Uncle Nick," Ellen teased, her good spirits coming back.

Everyone laughed, feeling the joy of the moment. The rest of the evening was spent in planning. Coal stayed by Ellen's side until she went to bed. The dog was as happy as Ellen was at the moment.

The day of the cleanup was decided to be on the twins’ birthday. When asked Ellen and Thomas wouldn't have it any other way.

Early on the morning of the twins fifteenth birthday, Tom, Audra, the children, and all the Barkleys were at the Indian cemetery south of town. The air was cool and windy. Ellen stood next to her father watching the road. Coal sat by her feet, wagging his tail for joy.

"Papa, do you think they will come?" Ellen asked, turning her eyes briefly from the road.

"I talked about it yesterday at the council house. The chiefs didn't appear to oppose it, but what the people think are very different," Tom said, trying to pick his words carefully.

"Do you think they might be afraid of what the white people would do to them if they tried to fix this place up, Father?" Thomas asked, jumping into the conversation.

Tom sighed deeply. The sigh seemed to come from his toes. "I don't know, my son. They could be. Our people have been intimidated by white men for a long time. That's why I am helping with the Modoc Reparations Law," Tom said.

"Uncle Jarrod, did you talk to the sheriff? Would he be able to keep order while we clean up?" Ellen asked, turning to her uncle.

"Of course I did. I went to talk with him as soon as I arrived yesterday in Stockton," Jarrod said in a gentle voice.

Out of all the Uncles Ellen liked Jarrod better since he knew how to talk to girls. Nick yelled too much and Eugene was rarely around. Heath was all right. He was her second favorite uncle.

'Ellen, calm down. Everything will go off according to plan," Nick said sharply.

"Yes sir, Uncle Nick. I've seen how people have reacted to Tommy and me," Ellen said, voicing her concerns for the first time. She pushed a stray wisp of her dark brown hair out of her eyes.

She would have continued if she didn't see the wagons coming down the road. Jack Lightfoot and his wife and ten others hopped out of the wagons.

Thomas saw a boy with long black hair and gave something between a birdcall and a whoop of joy. He ran toward the boy and the two shook hands and pounded each other's backs.

Thomas came back an exultant expression on his face as his arm was thrown over the boy's shoulders in a comrade gesture. "Mother, this is my friend, Peter Runningfire. Peter, this is my mother and sister," Thomas said, barely keeping the joy out of his voice.

"Hello. Pleased to meet," Peter said in broken English.

Tom yelled something in Modoc to all the Indians gathered. Audra and the rest of the Barkleys looked confused. "He say time to start cleaning," a young Indian girl standing next to Ellen translated.

"You speak English?" Ellen asked, looking at the girl. The girl was about Ellen's age. She wore a leather top with fancy fringes and beads. Her blue skirt was full and leather moccasins peeked out form under it.

"Yes. My name is Rachel Whitecrow," Rachel said.

'Nice to meet you. My name's Ellen Lightfoot," Ellen said in introduction.

"All the Modocs know who you are. Your father is well known among our people," Rachel said, as Rachel, Matilda, and Ellen stooped by a grave and started to pull at a weed.

Conversation ran among the groups of Indians and Barkleys working together. Most of the Indians who couldn't understand English had a translator so the Barkleys could understand what was being said. Everyone was happy as they worked, no one knowing that trouble was brewing.

Ellen wiped her sweaty forehead against the sleeve of her shirt. Audra would have had a fit if she had seen her do that, but apparently she hadn't.

After a few hours of cleaning the graveyard was starting to look slightly better. There were still some unkempt graves and the grass around the cemetery needed to be trimmed. Ellen blew a lock of her dark hair out of her eyes as she pulled hard at a stubborn weed.

She stood up and firmly grasped the weed with her two hands. The weed was kind of sharp as it bit into her hands. When she pulled again, the weed gave way and it caused her to sit down hard.

Ellen bit her lip in pain as she examined her hands. They were raw and red. Because the weeds were so sharp there was also some blood on her hands too. Ellen wiped her hands on the knees of her pants and went back to work.

She got so wrapped up in her work she didn't notice the crowd gathering around the cemetery until it was almost too late.

"Wouldja look at that?" An ugly voice sneered.

Everyone in the graveyard looked up to see a whole crowd of people. Ellen looked at the group and then the weed she was pulling up. She stood up, the weed forgotten.

"What do you want?" Uncle Jarrod asked the crowd.

"Why don't you and those Injuns go home, Barkley?" A voice asked hatefully.

"We have a right to be here! The sheriff gave his permission for us to clean the Indian Cemetery up!" Thomas yelled from beside Tom.

"You have nothin' to say about it, Half-breed!" Johnny Kemptor yelled, pushing his way into the crowd.

Thomas's eyes looked upset as the hateful white boy pushed his way through to glare at him.

"Tommy, don't fight," Ellen said, placing a hand on her brother's shoulder.

"I won't, Ellie. I got in trouble last time when I hit him," Thomas said, squeezing his sister's hand with his hand.

"Why don't you just leave, Injun boy? Nobody in this town wants you, your mother, or your sister here!" Johnny said.

Thomas looked quietly at the boy and didn't say anything. He was hoping that Sheriff Madden would show up soon and tell the crowd to leave.

"I want them here," Victoria's voice broke through the quiet of Johnny's statement.

A lady in rich clothing looked at Victoria. "Victoria, they are Indians! How could you love Modoc Indians?" The woman asked, surprised at Victoria's response.

"Simple. Their Mother is my daughter. That makes them my grandchildren," Victoria said, her voice steely.

"Victoria, we've been friends a long time. If you accept these Modocs our friendship is over," the woman said cruelly.

"Very well. If those are the conditions I accept my grandchildren," Victoria said coldly.

Ellen stepped up to her grandmother as the lady huffed off angrily. "I'm sorry, Nana," Ellen said, pity in her blue eyes.

"It's not your fault, Sweetie. I guess now is the time to figure out who my friends really are," Victoria said, hugging her granddaughter.

"All of you leave now!" Uncle Nick shouted, pulling out his gun.

Uncle Heath and Uncle Jarrod pulled out their guns as well. Tom grabbed his rifle where it was propped against his father's woodenhead marker. The rest of the Indian men grabbed tomahawks and bows and arrows.

One of the older men of the town looked at all the weapons. "Let's go. The sheriff says they have a right to be here," the old man said grudgingly.

The crowd dispersed, leaving everyone to breathe sighs of relief.

Ellen was the first to speak. "Nana, your neighbors are cowards at heart. What kind of people would attack women and children?" Ellen asked, her voice dripping with contempt as she watched the crowd go.

'They won't kill us, Ellen. Not as long as the men are here with their weapons," Audra said, trying to comfort her daughter.

'I know, Mother. I guess I knew this would happen. Now I'm starting to wonder if coming out here to clean up this place was a good idea," Ellen said, her voice sad and despairing.

"Ellen, it was a terrific idea. It's about time someone took an interest in this place. Don't start thinking it's not a good idea because of what a few Indian-hating people feel," Tom said, a reprimand tinging his voice.

'I'd think we'd better get back to work. We have a lot of work to do before sunset," Thomas suggested, looking at his father, mother and sister.

Ellen nodded her head and went back to work with her cousin and new Indian friend. For the rest of the afternoon all conversation was somber and subdued.

Everyone sat in Jarrod's office taking deep breaths of the cool air coming in through the window. The Indians that had helped clean up the graveyard had gone back to the reservation. Thomas sat in a soft leather chair and Ellen, Matilda, and the other girls sat on the couch and floor, trying not to wince as they wrapped their blistered hands.

Ellen stretched her arms high over her head and yawned. She had never felt so tired in her whole life and all she wanted right now was to go home and sleep in her soft feather bed.

Little did she know that stretching her arms would cause worry. "Ellen! Your hands!" Aunt Lily exclaimed as she grabbed at her niece's hands and looked at them in shock.

"They are going to be fine, Aunt Lily. They just hurt a little. I've never pulled weeds before," Ellen said, trying to pull her hands out of Lily's.

Audra came over and took one of her daughter's hands out of Lily's and looked it over. It was raw, red, and bleeding. It looked as if someone had gouged holes in her daughter's hands.

"Ellen, your hands are going to infect if we don't treat them. Heath, could you go to Dr. Merar and see if he has any ointment for her hands?" Audra asked her brother.

"They are fine, Mother. They are just going to turn into blisters," Ellen tried to protest.

"Shh. Don't argue with your mother. You couldn't possibly win anyway," Audra said, a brief glimmer of amusement in her blue eyes.

"Yes Ma'am," Ellen said, grudgingly giving in.

'Sis, ya still wants me to go get that ointment?" Heath asked, waiting for a lull in the conversation.

"Please?" Audra asked, surprised that he was still there.

Ellen yawned again as Heath left. Audra turned to look at her daughter. "Tired, Ellen?" Audra asked, finger combing Ellen's long dark hair.

"Very. I don't even know if I'll be able to finish that book tonight that Uncle Nick gave me before we left," Ellen said, laying her head against her mother's shoulder.

'What book?" Tom asked, curious. He didn't remember Nick giving Ellen a book before they left.

"He gave me some book about the Trail of Tears and I want to try and finish it," Ellen said, trying to muster up the enthusiasm that she felt about the book that morning.

"That sounds interesting," Thomas said, trying not to let anyone know what he felt about history.

"Well, I think you children should go straight to bed as soon as we eat at home. Don't you agree, Tom?" Audra asked, looking at her husband. Her eyes said the words plainly; You are their father. Take responsibility for them.

Tom nodded his head. Audra was right. He should take responsibility for his two children. It was part of being a father and if his daughter was really this tired she shouldn't make herself stay awake. He had been too lenient with his two children It was time to be a responsible adult.

"You mother is right. When we get home you're going to bed," Tom said firmly.

"Yes Sir," Ellen said thinly, too tired to argue. What she didn't say was that the altercation at the graveyard between the town and them had caused a lot of her weariness. Starting tonight she was going to pray more. She had lived her life believing that God answered prayers. This was one prayer she wanted; that white people wouldn't hate Modocs or any Indians.

The next morning Ellen and Matilda were walking past the graveyard they had just cleaned the day before. Trash and clutter was strewn all over the ground. Ellen stopped in shock as the horrid sight filled her dark blue eyes.

Matilda stopped talking and looked at the ground. "Ellen?" Matilda asked in a trembly voice.

Ellen took a deep breath and tried to control the tears that threatened to fall down her face. All their hard work had been damaged.

"How could this happen, Tildy? All our hard work yesterday?" Ellen asked, her voice sounding hopelessly sad.

"I don't know, but let's go see Papa. Maybe he'd know what to do about this," Matilda said, slipping a comforting arm around Ellen's slim shoulders.

The two girls walked down the street to Jarrod's office, failing to notice the people who looked at the two with smug smirks on their faces. Apparently both girls had to know that the people who trashed the graveyard were the good neighbors of Stockton.

Matilda pushed open the door to Jarrod's office, both girls failing to say hello to Jarrod's secretary. Jarrod and Tom were in Jarrod's office talking some more about the Modoc Reparations Law. Jarrod looked up to see his daughter and niece enter the room.

By the look on Ellen's face she looked as if she were about to start crying. "Ellen, what's wrong?" Jarrod asked, placing his hands on her shoulders.

Tom looked at his daughter. Ellen obviously looked upset at something. "What happened, Ellen?" Tom asked, feeling the same concern that Jarrod felt creep into him.

"They trashed the graveyard Uncle Jarrod, Papa. All our hard work the white people have totally ruined!" Ellen said, her voice bitter and angry.

"What?" Jarrod asked at the same time that Tom asked, "Ellen, are you sure?"

"Yes. Matilda and me were walking by there and trash was all over the ground and some of the headstones were ripped and tossed carelessly on the ground," Ellen said, allowing herself to finally start crying.

"Ellen, don't cry. We can fix the graveyard again," Jarrod said gently, hugging his niece.

"I know. Uncle Jarrod, how can I forgive the White people when all I feel is hatred and anger inside?" Ellen asked, looking up into her uncle's bright blue eyes.

"You shouldn't hate people. Hatred has a way of eating you up until you become the person that you say that you hate. Instead hate what they have done. Besides you shouldn't hate white people because you're white too," Jarrod said, pushing wet strands of dark hair out of Ellen's eyes.

"Only half-white, Uncle Jarrod," Ellen said stubbornly.

"Oh? Does that mean you hate your mother's family because we're white?" Jarrod asked, making Ellen feel like he had asked a dumb question.

"No. I love my mother and all of you. I guess I don't really hate white people, Uncle Jarrod. I just feel angry. All our hard work just got damaged," Ellen said, wiping her nose against the palm of her hand.

"I know. I'll go talk to Sheriff Madden. Maybe he has an idea on how to keep the white people out of the Indian cemetery," Jarrod said, putting on his hat and jacket.

Ellen and Matilda sat down on the couch and waited for Jarrod's return. Tom tried to talk to his daughter, but she was still too upset to talk at the moment and just sat there, tears rolling, unheeded down her face.

Dinner that night was quiet and subdued. Ellen just sat there poking at her food. She had a normally healthy appetite that rivaled Nick's when it came to food, but this night her heart just wasn't into eating.

After the one hundredth poke at her potatoes Audra had finally had enough. "Don't play with your food, Ellen Victoria Lightfoot!" Audra scolded, her patience with Ellen frayed.

Ellen looked up at her mother, tears misting her dark blue eyes. Ellen swallowed a few times to make sure she wouldn't start crying again. "Mother, I'm not really hungry," Ellen said, her voice cracking slightly with unshed tears.

"It wouldn't hurt you to eat a few of your vegetables, Ellen," Audra said, softening her voice.

"My heart's just not into eating right now, Mother. I think I'm just going to go to bed," Ellen said, pushing her plate away after attempting to raise her fork to her mouth.

"Ellen Lightfoot, you heard your mother! Eat your vegetables!" Tom said, tired of Ellen's self-pity.

Ellen choked down a few of the vegetables, tears slowly running down her face and onto her hands.

"Ellie, are we going to try to fix up the graveyard?" Thomas asked, concerned about the pain his twin was going through.

Ellen wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands. "I don't know, Tommy. Tell you the truth I don't know if it's worth all the pain to try to fix it up again. How do we know that white men won't damage it again?" Ellen asked, her voice despairing.

"Because Ellen, it's important that you don't give up. You see, talent is God-given. I'd hate to see you quit something that you started," Tom said, feeling the need to teach her something.

"You're a fine one to talk! You talk about not quitting, but what about you? You left Mother!" Ellen said, lashing out in anger.

Tom's stomach hurt with pain. Ellen was right. Her father was lecturing her about not quitting and he had quit. He had deserted his own wife and children a month after he had been married.

"That's why you shouldn't quit, Ellen. Learn from my mistakes. I left and quit because I was afraid. I thought that if people knew that I had a white wife they would kill her for loving an Indian. That's a bad excuse, but that was what was going through my mind when your Uncle Jarrod told me that your mother had left and was having you and your brother," Tom said, trying to keep his voice gentle.

Ellen looked down at her hands folded on the linen tablecloth. "I'm going upstairs. I have some arithmetic homework that needs to be finished," Ellen said, her voice not showing if her father's words had any impact on her.

Tom looked at his wife. "I tried, Audra. I hoped that she might listen to me," Tom said, taking his wife's hand in his large one.

"Who said that she didn't? It's going to take her awhile to get over what happened at the Indian cemetery," Audra said. Audra picked up her husband's hand and kissed it gently. Tom hoped Audra was right and Ellen would forgive and forget about what had happened at the cemetery.

Tom and Ellen's relationship was strained after that. Tom couldn't help feeling slightly worried. Audra told him that Ellen was acting completely out of character. She never was this way. She was usually happy and joyous.

Ellen's attitude was affecting everyone. She refused to talk, even to Matilda. And at mealtimes she didn't eat. She just sat there playing with her food. She would just sit and read books.

Tom and Audra didn't know how to reach her. When they tried to talk to her she ignored them both. Thomas even tried to talk to his twin, but she would just look at him over a book and continue on with her reading.

Finally one day enough was enough. Ellen sat at her place at the table, slowly making ridges in her mashed potatoes. Out of pure reflex Tom covered his daughter's hand with his own.

"Ellen Victoria Lightfoot, how many times do your mother and I have to tell you not to play with your food?" Tom said sternly, holding her hand firmly.

All conversation stopped as everyone looked at Ellen. "A million times," Ellen said shortly.

By the look on everyone's face it was hard to determine if everyone was surprised or shocked that Ellen had actually spoken.

"Ellen, change your tone of voice, please," Audra reprimanded.

"Yes Mother," Ellen said softly.

Tom released his daughter's hand. She picked up her fork and took a miniscule bite of her potatoes. She hastily dug into her plate as if she were half-starved

"I'm quite aware of that, Thomas," Tom said, feeling angry himself at his daughter's rude behavior.

"Ellen, I think those potatoes are dead and you can eat them now," Nick teased, trying to get a smile out of his niece. It worked. Ellen's mouth twitched slightly and something very close to a laugh escaped.

Ellen looked up at Nick. "It's difficult to stay mad at you, Uncle Nick," Ellen said, her voice sounding human for the first time in days.

"Why would you be mad at me?" Nick asked the question all of them were wondering.

"Do all of you promise not to get mad at me for saying anything?" Ellen asked, switching her gaze to her father and mother.

"We promise," Audra said, relieved that this quarrel might be over.

"You're white," Ellen said as if the answer was simple.

Everyone looked at her, her answer suddenly making a lot of sense. "Ellie, you and me are white too. Mother's white. Nana, Uncle Heath, Uncle Jarrod, Uncle Nick, Uncle Eugene, our aunts, and cousins are white too. Isn't it wrong to blame them for something that they didn't do? They helped us fix up the graveyard," Thomas said.

"I know. I've been trying to tell myself that not all white men are bad, but when Johnny Kemptor teases us for having an Indian father and a white mother and trips us when we go to do math problems on the board I feel like all white men hate us," Ellen said, letting the bad feelings out for the first time ever.

Tom placed his hand on the side of her head and ran his fingertips through her dark brown hair. His daughter was finally telling him why she was upset. With all his heart Tom wished that he could protect her from racial prejudice, but that would be there all her life. Tom loved his daughter and now that she knew he was alive she was going to know that her father loved her.

Ellen, Thomas and their cousins were walking to school the next day when a young rider came riding through the Barkley ranch. His hair under his stetson was dark blond and his eyes were a blue-gray. His horse was a Morgan. Thomas looked up at the stranger.

"Hello. What are you doing here?" Thomas asked the question that everyone was thinking.

My name's Jack Watson. I'm looking for a job," the boy said with a slight southern twang to his words.

"Uncle Nick and Uncle Heath does the hiring. They should be up at the house," Matilda said, pointing in the direction of the house.

"Thank you," Jack said, his voice polite. Jack tipped his hat to Ellen as he rode past. Ellen couldn't help but think how handsome Jack Watson was.

She didn't know if Uncle Nick would hire him though. He sounded as if he really needed this job. Maybe he would get it.

* * * * * * * *

Ellen, Thomas, and their cousins entered the house later that afternoon. Ellen voiced her opinion, not knowing that all the adults could hear her.

"I wonder if Jack Watson got hired," Ellen said, hanging her bonnet on the hall tree.

"Do I detect that you like him, Ellie?" Thomas said, his eyebrows raised in amusement.

"No. He just sounded like he needed a job, Tommy," Ellen said, denying the fact that she did like him.

"Yeah right," Thomas said, seeing the lie for what it was.

"For your information, Miss Lightfoot, we did hire him," Nick's voice came across the room.

Ellen felt her face turn red as she faced all the adults in the family. Everyone was grinning like a Cheshire cat at the flustered expression on her face. Everyone except Tom.

"You do like him, Ellen," Audra noted, hugging her daughter tight.

"I lied. I like him a lot," Ellen said, her face turning a darker shade of red.

"Boy howdy, she's blushin!" Heath said, laughing.

Ellen put her hands on her face to cover her flaming red cheeks. "Yeh, Papa. I've never seen an Indian blush!" Elizabeth crowed.

Everyone laughed again at Ellen's obvious expression of annoyance at her eight-year-old cousin.

"Actually I'd prefer if you didn't like him," Tom said quietly through the laughter.

Everyone stopped laughing and turned to stare at Tom. "Why Papa?" Ellen asked, confused by the serious frown on Tom's face.

"He's not Modoc. I'd prefer if you ever get married that you and your brother marry someone Modoc," Tom said simply.

The look of absolute shock on everyone’s faces was obvious as they all looked at each other. "Tom, I'm not Modoc and you fell in love with me?" Audra asked, surprised at her husband's thinking.

"And Papa, who said anything about marriage? I don't even know if I want to get married! I just think he's a nice guy!" Ellen said, her blue eyes puzzled.

"I think you had better go do your homework, Children," Victoria said, jumping into the conversation.

Ellen went upstairs, confused at her father's thinking. She hoped that Jack's last name had nothing to do with his thinking. Ben Watson had accused her father of killing his brother. Jack couldn't be related to Ben and Clem Watson. Could he?

Ellen went downstairs at dinnertime. The idea of Jack being related to Clem and Ben Watson seemed silly know that she had thought of it. Her father couldn't still hate Ben Watson and Lil Bailey for lying about him in court, could he?

Ellen shook her head, her dark hair whipping past her shoulders. Maybe Tom wasn't serious about her marrying someone Modoc.

Ellen went into the parlor, where the family congregated before every meal. No one was there, except Jack. He was stocking the firewood bin with firewood. He wiped his arm across his face and pushed his stringy blond hair back.

"Hello, Jack," Ellen said, causing Jack to look up.

"Hello. You look kind of pretty," Jack said, without thinking.

Ellen giggled slightly. "I wouldn't say that in front of my father if I were you. He thinks that you want to marry me," Ellen said, sitting on her footstool.

"What? Where did your father get that idea?" Jack said, his voice filled with humor.

"I kind of said to my brother that I liked you," Ellen said, blushing a little at the memory.

"Oh," Jack said, laughing.

"It's not that funny, Jack!" Ellen said indignantly.

"Oh yes it is. Ya see when I saw you and your brother and cousins all I could think of was how pretty you were," Jack said, causing Ellen to laugh too.

"Tell me something are you related to someone named Ben Watson?" Ellen asked, after catching her breath.

Jack's smile instantly vanished. "No. Why do you ask?" Jack asked, standing up.

Ellen stood up too. "I think that's why my father doesn't like you. Before he married my mother he was accused of murdering someone named Clem Watson. The people who accused him were Lil Bailey and Ben Watson," Ellen said, looking straight into his eyes, hoping that if he was related to Ben he could tell her.

"No. I don't know anyone named Ben Watson, Clem Watson, or Lil Bailey. I have to go do my chores," Jack said, his voice sounding as if he had had enough of this conversation.

As he left Ellen felt confusion. Jack was hiding something. The way he had reacted when she asked him who his father was was evidence of that. Ellen felt strongly that he must have been related to Ben and Clem. Maybe she should talk to someone about her suspicions. But who?

Ellen sat there at the table twirling her long dark brown hair with one finger and playing with her food with a fork. Tom felt as if maybe she was mad at him again, but it didn't seem likely.

Ellen had a look of deep concern on her face and her forehead was wrinkled as if she was doing a lot of thinking. "What are you thinking of, Ellie?" Thomas asked the question Tom wanted to ask.

"Hmmm? Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know that I was that obvious," Ellen said, laying her fork down.

"You're not mad at anyone, are you?" Jarrod ventured, causing Ellen to grin. Jarrod knew her well.

"Nope. If I was mad I wouldn't be talking," Ellen said, amused.

"She's right, Jarrod. She's too much like her Uncle Heath in that respect," Audra jumped in, teasing her blond brother.

"Hey!" Heath exclaimed in mock-anger.

Ellen laughed slightly at the perturbed look on Heath Barkley's face. She knew Heath wasn't mad. By the look on his face he was trying his hardest not to laugh. She looked over at her father. He wasn't one to laugh much when he something was funny, but his eyes gave away how funny he thought the teasing actually was.

"What were you thinking about, Ellen?" Tom asked, his tone serious.

Ellen looked over at Nick and Heath. "Uncle Nick, do you and Uncle Heath know anything about Jack Watson?" Ellen asked, taking a bite of her roast.

'Not much. He said he's been everywhere. He'd rather not talk about his past, Ellen," Heath said, knowing exactly how the boy felt.

When Heath was that age he didn't want anyone to know that he was raised in a mining camp and didn't have a father.

"Why do ya ask, Ellen?" Nick asked.

"I was talking to him before supper. When I asked him a question he ran like a scared rabbit," Ellen asked, taking a drink of her milk.

"Maybe it was a question he didn't like," Heath said, trying to give a good reason for Jack's behavior.

"What question did you ask him, Sweetie?" Martha asked.

"I asked him if he was any relation to Ben and Clem Watson," Ellen said, looking straight at her father.

Nick responded before Tom could say anything. "Come on, Ellen! Just because his name's Watson don't mean he's any relation! Joshua Watson works for us and he's not related to the Watsons!" Nick shouted, causing Ellen to look down at her plate ashamed.

"Nick, the child is quite capable of hearing you without you shouting at her and scaring her!" Jarrod reprimanded his brother.

"What makes you think he's related to Ben and Clem Watson, Ellen?" Tom asked, trying to get back to the subject.

"I don't know. The way you reacted I suppose when everyone was teasing me about liking him," Ellen said, trying to shovel the food in her mouth after that comment.

"What did he say when you asked him, Ellen?" Jarrod asked, going into lawyer-mode.

"He said he didn't know anyone named Ben, Clem, or Lil Bailey," Ellen said, looking up at her uncle.

The rest of dinner was quiet as everyone tried to think of what to do next. It was obvious that Jack Watson was lying about something. Maybe they'd find out eventually that maybe he was related to the Watsons and, then again, maybe not.

The whole family gathered in the parlor waiting for Jack to come in with firewood. That was one of the jobs that Heath and Nick had assigned for Jack Watson to have on the ranch.

Ellen felt upset about this whole thing. If Jack was related to the Watsons her father and the Modoc people might decide to kill the boy because of what his father and Lil Bailey had done. Ellen hoped not.

The day that he had worked there Ellen had decided she had really liked him. Who his father was had nothing to do with what he was. He looked like a very nice boy to Ellen Lightfoot and if Tom couldn't accept what she thought then Ellen felt sorry for him.

The door opened interrupting Ellen's thoughts. Jack entered carrying an armful of wood. Jarrod was the first to speak.

"Hello, Jack. When you put down that wood I want to ask you a few questions," Jarrod said, looking into the boy's blue-gray eyes.

"Mr. Barkley, I don't want to disrespect you since I work for your family. But if this is about my family then it's none of your business," the boy said rudely.

"Boy, you work for us and my niece said that you sounded as if you are hiding something. Now, where do you come from?" Nick asked, gruff as a bear.

"Everywhere," Jack said sullenly.

"What my brother means is where were you born, Jack?" Jarrod asked, picking his words carefully.

"Salinas," Jack said finally.

"Is your father Ben Watson?" Jarrod asked, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"I'm not going to get in trouble for answering, am I?" Jack asked worriedly.

Jarrod looked at Tom, Audra, and the twins. "No. Your confession will not harm you, Boy," Jarrod said soothingly.

Jack looked over at Tom. "Ben Watson is my father," Jack said, his voice low with pain.

Jarrod nodded his head satisfied with the answer. "Why did you lie to me?" Ellen asked, speaking up for the first time.

"Ellen, my father is a horrible person. I thought that if I ran away I’d be free of him,” Jack said.

"I'm sorry," Ellen said, walking over to him.

Jack smiled at her. "You have done nothing wrong, Ellen. I was the one who lied to you. It's just that you think that every father is probably like yours. Mine isn't," Jack said, looking into her dark-blue eyes.

"Again I am sorry. Papa, you're not going to blame him for what his father did to you, are you?" Ellen asked, turning to look at her father.

"Boy, your father accused me of murdering your uncle," Tom said, his voice hard with bitterness.

"I know. I am sorry, Mr. Lightfoot. But am I to be blamed for something I didn't do? I didn't accuse you, Mr. Lightfoot," Jack said, looking from Ellen to Tom.

"He's right, Tom. If we want our children to know the difference between right and wrong we can't allow them to blame people who are innocent from what their parents have done," Audra said, putting a restraining hand on her husband's muscular arm.

"You are right, Audra. Very well. I don't blame you, Boy, for what your father did," Tom said grudgingly.

Ellen smiled at Jack and then looked toward Nick. "Uncle Nick, can he stay on here? If his father comes looking for him we can protect him," Ellen said, begging of her dark-haired uncle.

"That might be a good idea, Nick," Heath said, taking Ellen's side.

"All right. You can stay here," Nick said as grudgingly as Tom.

“Thank you, Boss. And thank you, Miss Lightfoot," Jack said, giving Ellen a mock-bow.

Ellen giggled at his display of mock-chivalry. "You are quite welcome, Mr. Watson," Ellen said.

Jack found himself liking her smile. It was so pretty. "I have to get back to work," Jack said, looking over at Tom. Tom's expression was upset at the conversation taking place between his daughter and Jack.

"Good bye, Jack," Ellen said as he walked back to the front door.

"Good bye, Miss Ellen," Jack said, opening the door to the house and walking outside.

Everyone looked at Ellen. Tom knew his daughter liked the boy, but the boy being her beau or marriage to him was definitely out of the question. Tom hoped that Audra could talk to their daughter. Because the way things looked Ellen was in love with the boy.

After it was decided that Jack live among the Barkleys Jack would walk with Ellen, Thomas, and their cousins to school every day.

Tom didn't know if he liked that idea. Ellen liked the boy too much to see that the boy's father had caused him pain. But to be reasonable Tom had to think about what Ben Watson had done to his son to cause him to run away.

Jack had told Ellen bits and pieces about his life while he cleaned out the barn every day. Ellen said that Ben was abusive and Jack couldn't live with that kind of abuse.

Tom knew the boy liked his daughter. Tom wanted his daughter to marry someone Modoc, but Ellen apparently was vetoing that idea. Tom felt as if he should have known that his daughter was too much like him.

With her it was hard to tell what parent she was like. When she was happy she had Audra's personality, but when she was upset she acted too much like her father.

Tom was sitting in the kitchen thinking these things through when Audra came into the kitchen with the breakfast dishes.

"Tom, what are you doing in here?" Audra exclaimed at the sight of her husband.

"Audra, sit down," Tom said in a voice Audra knew not to argue with.

Audra sat across from him and took his large rough hand in her small white one. "What's wrong, Tom?" Audra asked, concern showing in her blue eyes.

"Did we do the right thing by allowing the Watson boy to stay here, Audra?" Tom asked his wife.

"I don't know, Tom. Ellen appears to like him a lot and is it fair to her to tell him to leave? I think she's in love with him," Audra said, hoping her husband would understand their daughter's feelings.

"I have nothing against Ellen being in love. I just don't want her to be hurt if Ben Watson comes and makes the boy go back with him to Salinas," Tom said, turning into a protective father.

"Tom, I think if Ben Watson came he wouldn't force his son to go back to Salinas," Audra said.

'You don't remember him do you, Audra? He was the one who lied about me in a court of law. He could lie about his own son," Tom said firmly.

"But you are right, Tom. If he does leave I don't want Ellen's heart to be broken by it. She loves that boy as much as I still love you," Audra said, kissing her husband's lips gently.

"I love you too, Audra," Tom said, placing the palm of her hand on his lips and kissing it gently.

"You do?" Audra asked.

"Of course I do. I was wrong to leave you and the twins, but I thought I was doing the right thing for my family," Tom said.

"I have to wash the dishes, Tom," Audra said, standing up and walking to the sink.

"All right. I have to go over some provisions for the Modoc Reparations Law. I'll see you tonight at supper along with the twins," Tom said, kissing her cheek lightly.

The next few days were quiet. No one in town had bothered the Barkleys or Lightfoots and Ben Watson hadn't come for his son either.

Ellen found out that Jack had a great sense of humor. He was always making her laugh and had a great smile that lit up his whole face. He looked like an angel when he smiled.

Of course Jack was a gentleman. He was always offering to open the door to the house for her or holding her books when they went to town. He also helped clean up the Modoc graveyard when the family went back to fix it up with their Modoc friends.

The day they cleaned up Rachel Whitecrow noticed the love Ellen apparently had for Jack.

"Do you like Jack Watson, Ellen?" Rachel asked as they got drinks of water from the water bucket.

Ellen blushed slightly. "What do you think?" Ellen asked her Indian friend.

"I think you do. Does your father approve of him?" Rachel asked, concern in her dark eyes.

"Why would Papa not approve of Jack? Jack doesn't hate Modocs," Ellen said, her eyebrows quirking in confusion.

"It's not that. He's white," Rachel said, as they walked back to their tasks.

'What of it? My mother's white," Ellen said, still more confused.

"But not your father. Among our people you don't marry without the consent of your father," Rachel said, quoting Modoc law.

"My father hasn't said anything about that!" Ellen said, the surprise evident in her voice.

"Maybe he thought that if Jack Watson proposed then he could tell you," Rachel said. Both girls looked over at Tom. Tom was talking to his son and some of the braves of the reservation.

"I'm going to ask him now about that law among our people," Ellen said purposefully.

"You can't! In our tribe a woman does not interrupt a man when he is talking to braves. Ever!" Rachel said, shocked.

"I am not full-blooded Modoc. I am still half-white and my father better explain this now instead of later," Ellen said, a stubborn look entering her eyes.

Ellen stalked over to where her father was. At the look on his sister's face Thomas winced. She was mad about something.

Tom turned to look at what had caused his son to flinch. Ellen's eyes were furious and she was frowning. "What's wrong, Ellen?" Tom asked, parental concern entering his voice.

"Rachel Whitecrow just told me something very interesting. How come you didn't tell me that I had to have your consent to marry?" Ellen said stiffly.

"That's the way it's always been done. When I married your mother I had to go to your Uncle Jack to ask for permission to marry. Of course he didn't say yes, but he didn't say no either," Tom said, hoping that Ellen's anger would pass. It didn't.

"When were you going to tell me, Papa? Before or after I got engaged or married?" Ellen said, sounding a whole lot like Nick at that moment.

"I would prefer that you don't give me a smart answer, Ellen Victoria Lightfoot," Tom said feeling angry at his daughter's insolent question.

"Just answer the question," Ellen said, just as angry.

"When you ask me the question politely then I'll answer, but not before. Now get back to your work. We'll discuss this at home," Tom said, telling her by the steel in his voice that she had gone too far with her impudence.

Ellen bit her lip and went back to her work. "I told you so!" Rachel hissed to her friend.

"I know you did, but would it have hurt him to give me an honest answer?" Ellen said forlornly.

No one could answer that question. The distinction between Indian and white had been drawn again. The Modocs didn't approve of her talking back and the whites felt sorry for her. She didn't want people to feel sorry for her, but she didn't want people to think that she did wrong either by questioning Tom.

Ellen sat in front of the parlor fireplace, feeling dejected over what had happened at the Indian cemetery. Her father didn't normally talk like that to her. He usually answered any question she had truthfully.

"Rachel tried to warn ya," Jack's voice said from behind her.

"I know, but I thought my father wouldn't talk like that to me ever," Ellen said, turning to face the boy. Jack dropped a load of wood in the firewood bin.

"Is it that important that your father likes me, Ellen?" Jack asked, sitting beside her.

"Yes. I want my family to like you. I just feel as if Papa doesn't like you because of who your father is," Ellen said.

"I'm not really surprised. People judge me before they even know me. Ellen, my father's a drunk. They assume that I'm going to be like my father," Jack said, his voice serious as he looked into her dark blue eyes.

"I never did. I loved you from the day I first saw you," Ellen said tenderly.

"I felt like I loved you too that first day, but I can never marry you. Your father won't allow it," Jack said, reaching to the heart of the problem.

"We can talk to Papa. Sometimes he does listen, even though he's stubborn at times," Ellen said.

"I don't know, but I do know that I'll always love you. And even though you are half-Indian that won't change how I feel," Jack said, kissing her gently on the forehead.

"I love you too, Jack. And even though you are white and four years older that's not going to change how I feel about you," Ellen said, kissing his forehead.

"I have chores to do," Jack said, standing up and walking to the door. Ellen opened it and closed it, collapsing to the floor in tears.

Thomas and Audra came into the foyer from the kitchen to see Ellen crying.

"Ellen? What's the matter, Sweetheart?" Audra asked, crouching next to her daughter and smoothing back her dark brown hair.

"Mother, Jack is gone," Ellen wailed, hugging her mother in a tight embrace.

"Has he left the ranch?" Audra asked in a soothing tone.

"He might. Papa hates him," Ellen said hiccupping and crying at the same time.

"Your father doesn't hate him, Ellen. He wants you to marry Modoc and he thinks he'll lose his baby if she marries a white man," Audra said, taking out her handkerchief and wiping Ellen's face gently.

"Mother, I'm fifteen. I love Jack," Ellen said simply.

"I think your father has forgotten how much he loved me. And he did marry me without his uncle's permission," Audra said, nearly laughing at the irony in the situation.

"Mother, do you think I should marry Jack?" Ellen asked, furiously wiping at her eyes.

"Actually no. But I'd rather you marry him when you're eighteen," Audra said hastily after seeing the look on Ellen's face.

"I love you, Mother," Ellen said, kissing her mother's cheek.

"I love you too. Now go get cleaned up for supper. And not a word to your father. He's a little angry that you would talk back to him at the graveyard," Audra warned, as she put a finger to Ellen's lips.

"Yes Ma'am," Ellen said, running upstairs to her room.

"Are you going to tell Father about Ellie loving Jack?" Thomas asked his mother as soon as Ellen was out of earshot.

"Your father is going to be furious. Thomas, don't bring it up in front of your father today. He's too angry," Audra warned her son.

"Yes, Mother," Thomas said, making his way to his room. Thomas felt sorry for Ellen. He knew that he and his mother was on Ellen's side and that Tom was being unreasonable. Maybe Thomas could tell his father that. Thomas found his mind going to dinner. He hoped his mother hadn't cooked it. With that thought he laughed as he cleaned up for dinner.

Ellen entered the dining room, a silence meeting her ears. Ellen looked at her father. It was different this time. He was angry with her and not the other way around this time.

His brown eyes were not warm or affectionate right now. Ellen moved her dark blue eyes away from his. She just couldn't look into his eyes when he was mad at her.

Ellen sat down next to Matilda. "Uncle Tom is mad at you for what happened at the graveyard," Matilda whispered without moving her lips.

"Tell me something I don't know," Ellen whispered back, rolling her eyes.

Everyone sat down. Besides an occasional "Pass the rolls," Tom wouldn't talk to his daughter. By the time the meal was halfway over Ellen couldn't control her curiosity any longer.

"Papa, what are the laws that Rachel Whitecrow was talking about and don't tell me that you can't explain it to me," Ellen said, her voice sounding upset.

The look of shock that crossed every family member's face was priceless. Ellen wasn't going to let this drop. Tom's face moved from shocked to very furious.

"I said, no. Ellen, don't even think of asking me this question again. I am your father and I know what's best for you," Tom said, keeping his voice low so as not to reveal how angry he truly was.

"Yeh right. You don't even know Jack and you're judging him before you know him," Ellen said, her voice turning as frigid as her father's.

Tom looked at his daughter. "I would suggest you don't take this attitude with me, Ellen Victoria Lightfoot," Tom said, his voice tinged with anger now.

Ellen looked at her mother. "Mother, talk to him. You're on my side," Ellen said, causing Tom to look at his wife angrily.

"Audra!" Tom exclaimed.

"I love you, Tom, but I think you are wrong. Ellen and Thomas love you, but they need to decide for themselves who they want to marry. Not you," Audra said.

Audra's response caused Ellen to feel happy. It was good that Audra was on her side. Maybe her father was listening, but Ellen wouldn't count on it.

Ellen and Thomas walked into town with their cousins and Jack. Since their half-Indian status had caused them to be shunned by all of Stockton, their cousins and Jack were shunned as well.

None of them acted as if they cared that all of Stockton hated them like they did Thomas and Ellen. That day Ellen finally asked Jack about it.

"Jack, don't you feel uncomfortable with the valley outcasts?" Ellen asked, her voice strained by the argument with her father and the hostile attitudes of the whole town.

"I don't really care what people think of me. In Salinas I knew what it felt like to be an outcast. My ma ran off after I was born and my pa's a drunk. I'm past caring what all the bigots think of me liking all of you," Jack said, stopping and turning to look at Ellen.

"What about my father? You're not his favorite person. I would go as far as to say that he's never going to consent to our marriage when I turn eighteen," Ellen said, looking very much like her father at that moment with the way she cocked her head.

"I know. I guess all we do is just keep asking him and maybe one day he'll see that I'm nothing like Ben Watson," Jack said shifting Ellen's books to his right arm.

They continued to walk on in silence, everyone glaring at them as they walked. With their eyes forward they didn't see the man watching Jack from the livery.

He had an ugly scowl on his face and his face was really red from drinking way too much. Since his brother's death, Ben Watson still wouldn't confess to himself that he was responsible. He still blamed Tom Lightfoot for Clem's death.

Ben walked to catch up with his son. "Jackie, boy," the man said in a fake tone of parental love.

Jack stiffened at his father's voice. He turned to stare at his father. "What are you doing here?" Jack asked harshly.

"I came to bring you home, Jack," Ben said, confused at his son's hostile tone.

"I ain't going no where with you. I'd rather stay here in Stockton than live with you," Jack said, feeling Ellen's hand squeeze his shoulder gently.

"Jack, can you hand me my books? Thomas, the girls, and myself can walk the rest of the way," Ellen whispered to her friend.

"No. This conversation is over. Goodbye, Mr. Watson," Jack said shortly, turning on his heel.

"I think you should go to the sheriff and tell him your father is back in town," Thomas said quietly, pushing a lock of his dark brown hair out of his eyes.

"Nah. He's not beating me. Let's just go to school," Jack said, handing Ellen her books as they neared the door of the building.

That night at dinner was typical of Barkley meals. Except one thing; Ton and Ellen still weren't talking to each other. Ellen would look at her father with anguish in her dark-blue eyes, but he virtually ignored his daughter.

Rachel Whitecrow had said that Tom was behaving like a Modoc father would. Daughters didn't have much importance in the Modoc tribe. Tom was just following the traditions of the Modoc people.

That idea depressed Ellen. She was not full-blooded Modoc. You'd think being half-white would change that idea that a daughter wasn't that important. Suddenly she didn't care anymore if he father was angry with her for interrupting him.

"I am not a full-blooded Modoc!" Ellen blurted out, causing all conversation to stop, The room was so quiet Ellen, and everyone else in general, could have heard a pin drop.

Uncle Nick was the first to say something. "We are quite aware of that, Miss Lightfoot," Nick said, his voice gruff as a bear's.

"Then why do you treat me like a two-year-old, Papa?" Ellen asked, looking straight into her father's dark-brown eyes.

Tom was about to say something and closed his mouth, thinking through his answer. He picked his words carefully, so she'd understand.

"Ellen, when your mother and I talked about children we decided that I would decide who you or your brother would marry. That I would follow the traditions of the Modocs on who my children may or may not marry. Do you understand?" Tom asked, his voice not angry for the first time in days.

"No. I'll never understand you. I think you hate Jack and not because his father accused you of killing his brother, but because he's white. And if I don't marry Jack I'm marrying nobody," Ellen said, tears starting to drip in long streaks down her face.

Tom's mind went back to his proposal of Audra. Audra had said the same thing as his daughter. His daughter was a lot like her father, but she was also a Barkley too. There was a lot of Audra there too.

"I think about it, Ellen. Now may I eat my dinner in peace?" Tom asked.

"Yes, Papa. Thank you," Ellen said. This meant that Papa would consider the idea of marriage. She hoped that Jack being white wouldn't cause Tom not to disagree with the marriage.

Ellen felt relieved. Tom said he would think about her marrying Jack. She wouldn't marry him right now, but at least Tom was willing to see reason now.

She really wouldn't marry no one but Jack. Her mother had said the same words when she married Tom. Her father had to remember those words.

Ellen sat in front of the fireplace, playing with a lock of her long brown hair.

"So what did your father say?" Jack said, putting some wood down in the firewood bin.

"Nothing. He said that he would think about it and could he please get back to his meal," Ellen said, looking up into Jack's blue eyes.

"Sounds like my mother's father. Whenever Ma had something to say he would say that he wanted to get back to his meal in peace," Jack said, trying not to laugh.

"It's not that funny, Jack. Half the time I don't think I can ever understand my father. He's a lawyer that just happens to be a Modoc Indian and my father. I just want him to stop being a lawyer for once and just be my father," Ellen said, her voice breaking slightly.

"Your father loves you, Ellen. You're fortunate to have a father that loves you so much. My father is nothing to brag about," Jack said, his voice turning sad and bitter.

"Have you ever talked to your father?" Ellen asked.

"My father is not one for father/son talks. My father's idea of talking was beating me for disagreeing with him," Jack said flatly, as he sat down next to her.

"I'm sorry," Ellen said, pushing a stray lock of his long blond hair out of his eyes.

"It's all right. I stopped feeling sorry for myself a long time ago. You don't have to feel sorry for me either, Miss Lightfoot," Jack said, standing back up.

"Don't call me that. My name's Ellen," Ellen said, following him to the front door.

"I think it would be best that I call you that until your father says that we can marry," Jack said, opening the door and walking out into the twilight.

Ellen closed the door. Jack tried to hide that he was still angry with his father, but when she looked into his eyes she could see the anger in them. Ellen sat back down in front of the fireplace, twirling her hair around her finger.

"Stop that. You'll go bald," Matilda teased her older cousin a few minutes later.

Ellen looked around everyone else was in the room. If Tom was thinking about Ellen and Jack, his face didn't portray it.

"Whatcha thinking about, Ellie?" Thomas asked.

"Jack had brought in some wood and while we were talking he got angry. Does he ever get angry Uncle Nick, Uncle Heath?" Ellen asked, looking over at her two rancher uncles.

"I don't think I understand, Ellen. What do you mean by angry?" Nick asked, sitting next to his niece.

"Kind of like the look Tommy used to get when we first arrived here. Like the slightest wrong would make him furious," Ellen said, cocking her head in the "Jarrod Barkley" expression.

"No, don't think so. What were you talking about?" Heath asked.

Ellen looked over at Tom. "About how much we don't understand our fathers sometimes," Ellen said, causing Tom's jaw to tighten with anger.

"I can see where that would be a sore spot, Ellen," Jarrod said, gently picking his words carefully.

"He told me that they didn't talk much and that Watson would beat him. Is that true?" Ellen asked, looking back at Heath and Nick.

"Yep. He has taken his shirt off a few times and some scars are on his back from someone hitting him," Nick said.

Jack was right. I am fortunate that I have all of you. None of you would think of hurting me like that. Papa, I am sorry. I guess I should have thought through my words before I said them," Ellen said, walking over to Tom.

"I understand, Ellen. I haven't decided yet if I want you to marry Jack Watson though," Tom said, stroking one of her ears with his hand.

'I also understand. I guess we all had to find out what it meant to be a family," Ellen said, throwing her arms around Tom and Audra's necks.

The argument between Tom and Ellen was over. There would be many problems the family would face, but now that they all understood what it meant to be family, and having God on their side, they could handle anything.

THE END