Love, Hate, and Forgiveness

JULIA

The carriage bounced along the road, but Julia hardly noticed the jostling as she guided the horses along. She took the same route Jarrod had used a few nights ago, although she avoided the cemetery this time. A part of her wanted to stop at Matt Parker's grave, to pay her respects if not to the man he became, then to the boy she had known. But another part of her knew she had no right to do that, knew that the Parkers, who were about to bury another son whose death was indirectly connected to her, would not appreciate her being there. So, she continued her journey, leaving those difficult memories behind her, six feet under the ground.

Her talk with Jarrod's sister Audra had dredged up a lot of memories she had thought were buried and forgotten. The time in her life that they had spoken about had been so hard for her. Dirt poor and struggling to find a name for herself as a singer, she had gone to Washington believing, as did everyone in the north, that it would be a short war and that she could perhaps gain some favor in the celebrations that would surely follow.

But the war hadn't ended quickly. And her career didn't benefit from celebrations, instead floundering in the haze of uncertainty that eventually gripped the city. That is until she met a handsome young southern lieutenant who whispered all the right things in her ear, giving a glimpse of a future filled with music halls packed with people that wanted to hear her sing. She had allowed the sugar-coated words of others and her own dreams of becoming famous to cloud her judgement.

Mistakes. She had made so many mistakes back then. She had been so young, so poor, so…greedy. She had told Audra it was ambition, but she could admit now, after everything that had happened, that it had been greed that her fueled her actions all those years ago. She had been greedy and narrow-sighted, forcing herself to believe that what she was doing wasn't hurting anyone…

As she came around the final bend in the road and saw the great mansion once again, she pulled up on the reins, stopping her progress. She stared at the house, knowing that if things had been different, she might have had everything she ever dreamed of right here. If only…She flicked the reins and continued forward, determined to finish her journey.

Within moments, she stepped up to the door and raised her hand to the brass knocker, surprised to see that it wasn't shaking. It felt as though her whole body was trembling, but she forced the feelings away as she grasped the cool metal and rapped it against the door three times. She stepped back, waiting for the door to open, and forced her shoulders back and her head up, pushing any hesitation away.

After a moment, the door swung open and she was relieved to see the tall blond looking at her, startled. The pair stared at each other for several heartbeats, before the girl mimicked her own movements from a moment ago and straightened her shoulders, raising her head proudly.

"Hello," the blond said softly.

"Hello," Julia returned.

After a moment's hesitation, Audra said, "Would you like to come in?" She stood back from the door, and although the girls stance wasn't overly welcoming, her eyes, so much like Jarrod's, held no hostility.

"Thank you," Julia said as she stepped once more into foyer of the great house. She looked around, relieved not to see Jarrod's brother, the angry one from a few nights ago. She clutched her reticule tightly as she turned back to her young hostess. "I was hoping I might speak with Jarrod."

Again, the girl looked hesitant, her eyes darting up the stairs before they came back to rest on Julia. "Oh, well, the doctor was here not long ago…but I can see if he is up for visitors, if you like."

"Yes, thank you. I won't take up much of his time."

Audra gave a reluctant nod before she gestured toward the parlor. "Won't you make yourself comfortable while I check on Jarrod."

Julia nodded and moved slowly toward the fancy parlor, turning back when she heard Audra follow.

"Can I have Silas bring you some tea, or lemonade perhaps?"

A small smile broke across Julia's face at the effort to be a proper hostess. "No, I'm fine thank you," she said. "I'd really just like to speak to Jarrod, if I may."

Audra gave another nod. "Of course, I'll be back in a moment."

Julia watched as the younger woman went up the curved staircase before disappearing down a hall. She turned back into the parlor, her hands roaming across an elegant chair as she stepped into the room. She felt a flash of envy at the beautiful home, once again realizing it was what she had dreamed of having for herself at one time. Having grown up poor, she had always dreamed of the type of success and money that would allow her to buy such luxurious things. Now she had a successful career, but what she really wanted had nothing to do with material things. She sighed as she looked back toward the stairs, hoping to see Jarrod.

Several minutes later, Audra returned, alone, and the look on her face told Julia that she wouldn't be seeing Jarrod today.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Saxon. The doctor gave Jarrod some laudanum and he is sleeping. I didn't want to wake him-"

"Of course. I understand," Julia interrupted, thinking that Jarrod didn't want to see her after everything that had happened.

"I'm not sure you do," Audra said quickly. "He really is asleep and, well, he was worried-" Audra stopped herself and gave a small shake of her head before starting again. "He didn't sleep well last night and the doctor thought rest would be best for him. I'm sorry."

Julia forced a smile and gave the girl a reassuring nod. "Is he…" she trailed off, not sure she had the right to ask after him, considering it was her fault he was in the condition he was in.

This time Audra's smile was more genuine. "The doctor says he'll be fine in a day or two. He just needs rest."

Julia relaxed some at that. She reached into her reticule, pulling a small envelope out. "In that case, would you mind giving him this?"

Audra took the note with a nod. "Of course, I will."

"Thank you," Julia said as she made for the door. Neither of them spoke again until Julia was about to step down to her buggy.

"Ms. Saxon," Audra said reluctantly. "Thank you for talking to me the other day, for telling me your story. It helped me understand, at least a little bit."

Julia looked at her for several long moments before she responded, "Ms. Barkley, keep in mind that not all men are as honorable as your brother. If you ever find one that is, hold on to him. Don't make the same foolish mistake I did."

Audra's only response was a small smile and a nod as she turned back inside, closing the door behind her.

Julia entered the rented carriage and flicked the reins. Her train was leaving first thing in the morning and although she didn't accomplish what she intended to when she originally decided to come to Stockton, she was ready to leave. She understood now that she needed to allow this family, to allow Jarrod, to heal from the wounds she had caused, both physical and mental.

The ride back to Stockton gave her plenty of time to contemplate her return to the south. While it would never be her home, she knew that Jarrod was right, it was where she belonged. As much as she may have wanted a different outcome here, she knew it was finally time to forget the past and move forward. There was no hope for a happy ever after between her and Jarrod, any more than there had been for Matt Parker. And she had no one to blame but herself.

JARROD

Carefully stepping down from the carriage, he didn't even give the sister who drove him to town a second glance, his mind already on the train. He vaguely heard her say something to him, but all he managed was a vague nod as he stepped away. He went around the side of the depot, not really wanting to bump into anyone inside before he had a chance to speak to Julia.

He had stopped at the hotel first, hoping to catch her still in her room where they could talk privately. But the clerk had seemed relieved when he had told Jarrod that Julia had already left for the train, which was due to leave in twenty minutes. He made his way back to the buggy where his sister sat waiting and instructed her to head for the depot.

When he saw Julia stepping up to the train, he called out to her, a piece of him hoping she would keep boarding. When she turned back to him, he finally moved forward. Their conversation was short, with so many curious onlookers not far away, neither one of them wanting what needed to be said overheard. In the end, the bell on the train hastened her aboard and all he could do was watch as the train pulled away.

He stood for several moments, watching the train pull away. He had been sincere when he had said he wished things could have been different. If they had, if he hadn't fallen for her so hard and so fast, if she hadn't been so motivated by greed, if he had recognized what Julia was after sooner, if she hadn't set her sights on Matt Parker… so many ifs. But none of those things had happened and the two of them would have to accept that. Turning back toward the buggy, he ignored the looks around him. He was glad it was over and the two of them could move forward, but a part of him would always regret what couldn't be.

When he pulled himself into the buggy, Audra did not speak, just gave the reins a little flick and got them headed back home. He was silent as they made their way back through town, but once they were free from the prying eyes of town, he turned to his sister and said, "Thank you, Audra."

"For what?" she asked innocently.

He gave her a small smile. "For running interference with mother this morning so I could sneak off. For offering to drive me, even though you weren't any more convinced than mother was that I should go. But mostly, for not asking me what I know you must be dying to ask."

She gave an embarrassed smile and turned her eyes back to the road. "I…I think you needed this Jarrod. To see her one more time. I think you…well, I hope you have a bit of closure now."

Jarrod didn't respond as he shifted uncomfortably. Audra's words were an echo to his mother's from several nights ago, when he had brought Julia back to the ranch. His mother had said that Julia's coming back would help him decide if what he felt for her was love or hate. He had spent most of the night that night and each one since then, contemplating his mother's words. He still wasn't sure he had an answer.

He had told Julia he was defending her because he thought she was innocent and for only that reason, but was that the whole truth? Julia certainly wanted his reasons to be more. If he hadn't talked to Staley, realized the man was hiding something, would he have still defended her? In the end, the answer was yes. He would have done it for the same reason he defended Corby Kyles; because there was no else who would do it and he firmly believed everyone, guilty or innocent, deserved the right to counsel.

All of that brought him right back to where he was before. Did he still love Julia Saxon? His nineteen-year-old self certainly had, so much so that once he had realized the depth of Julia's deception, he had fled Washington, volunteering to lead a company of the 9th cavalry that was desperately trying to find men to lead the all-negro regiments. But he wasn't nineteen anymore and what he felt for Julia wasn't nearly the same.

He may not be able to give Julia his love, but he could give her forgiveness. He knew it wasn't what Julia wanted from him, but after everything that had happened, recently and all those years ago, it was the best he could offer.

TWENTY-FIVE YEARS LATER

Jarrod Barkley, Esquire

Barkley Ranch

Stockton, California

Dear Sir,

I know we have never met, but I feel as if I have known you for my entire life. My mother always spoke very highly of you and she followed your career closely, even going so far as having no less than three different California newspapers sent to her each week. Of course, by the time she received them the news was often weeks old, but she didn't care. She celebrated each victory in court, each step up in your career as if they had just happened, and related them to me enthusiastically.

Perhaps I should begin with an introduction. My name is Virginia Blue Yancy of Philadelphia, PA, but I prefer to go by the name Belle. You see, my mother once told me that I was named for the fields of Virginia Bluebells that she used to enjoy in her youth around Washington, where she lived for a short time during the war. She told me she and her young man spent a lot of time enjoying picnics in the fields outside of the city and that the color of my eyes reminded her of those long-ago days.

I've never been to Washington myself. My mother and I lived in New Orleans until I was ten. At that time, she married my father and of course took his name. He adopted me at the same time and we moved to Philadelphia. My mother made a point of telling me that my name was now Yancy and that I mustn't use her maiden name any longer. At ten years old I didn't fully understand, but was so happy in our family that I hardly gave it a second thought.

I should probably explain that my father, Doctor Simon Yancy, retired, was a surgeon at Philadelphia Hospital. He adored my mother and has been a wonderful father to me. I could not imagine going through this period of mourning without his steadfastness to guide me.

Which leads me to also tell you that my mother was not my birth mother. You see, I was a foundling. My mother found me outside of the theatre where she was a renowned local performer. I am told that I was bundled safely in my blankets and a basket, but there was no note, no notion of where I came from. After a short search for my birth parents came up empty, she took me in, gave me a home, and provided me with more love than any child could ask for. She promptly quit the theatre and used her entire savings to buy a manor house which she converted into a boarding house. That is how she met my father, when he was in the city for a medical conference of some fashion.

All of this brings me to the reason for my now lengthy missive. I am afraid that I have the sad duty to report to you of my mother's passing. She fell ill with influenza a few months ago and although she recovered, the fight took much out of her. Last week she lost her footing on the stairs and fell, sustaining several broken bones. My father was away at the time and I'm afraid medical attention did not come soon enough, and she succumbed to her injuries. Some of her last thoughts were of you and she begged me to write to you, to let you know that she was happy in her life and hoped that you were as well. I confess I do not understand all that was between the two of you, but I do know that she cared for you deeply. It was all I could do to ease her mind that I would do as she requested.

So, there you have it. As I said in my open, I feel as if I have known you all my life. I do not know if I should ever venture as far as California, but if I do, I hope I will find the occasion to visit you, so that I may finally say I have met the famous Jarrod Barkley of my mother's stories. My mother always described the beauty of California, but I do not think the occasions of her visits were pleasant ones. She would not tell me specifics, but her tone made me think they were not happy memories. Perhaps, if I should ever visit, you would tell me why?

Well, I imagine I have imposed upon your time long enough. I do hope this letter finds you and yours happy and well. I again apologize for the length as well as the sad news it bears, but I felt it was important to honor the spirit of my mother's wish.

Farewell,

Belle (Saxon) Yancy

With a sigh, Jarrod Barkley let the letter drop from his fingers to the desk. He ran a hand over his face, but had little time to contemplate the contents before giggles and running feet could be heard outside his door. He pushed away from his desk as a dark-haired ball of energy appeared in the door and raced across the room to jump into his lap.

"Hide me, Granpappy!" the boy said between giggles.

Wrapping his arms around the boy, he asked, "Who am I hiding you from?"

"Grammy!"

Before he could ask why the boy needed to hide, he took a good look at the squirming, giggling four-year-old in his arms and noticed for the first time the clumps of mud in the child's hair and across his clothes. He sighed again, realizing the mud was now on his own clothes.

The rustle in the doorway brought his eyes up to see his wife standing there, arms folded across her chest. She took one look at the two of them and shook her head.

"James Michael, I said bath, not hide and seek."

Jarrod rolled his eyes at her stern tone, even though she was trying hard to hide the smile as she eyed his once clean white shirt. The boy tried to squirm closer to Jarrod smearing more mud across Jarrod's chest even as another giggle escaped.

"No bath time, Grammy!"

She bit her lower lip to keep from laughing. Shaking her graying head, she came into the room and moved to grab the wild boy. "Yes, bath time. You've made a mess of your hands, your clothes, and your hair, not to mention the nice little mud hole you created in my rose garden. And now you've spread the love to your grandfather, I see."

The boy sat up and looked at Jarrod, then down at his own clothes. A mischievous grin came across his face as he eyed his grandfather. "Bath time for you too, Granpappy?"

Jarrod did his best to look stern, but a snicker from his wife nearly broke him. "I think you need to go with your grammy and get one first, young man." The boy didn't argue as he buried his head in Jarrod's neck and more mud was transferred to his grandfather. Jarrod looked at his wife and asked, "Why did we agree to take him for the whole weekend again?"

She smiled at him, the light wrinkles around her eyes dancing upward. "For the same reason your mother did the same for us after Michael was born. She wanted more grandchildren," she said with a laugh.

"Oh."

His wife's eyes went to the letter on the desk. "Everything okay?"

Jarrod shrugged and shifted the squirming boy in his arms. "Just a letter from…" He paused, not sure how to go on. Finally, he said lamely, "The daughter of an old friend."

A raised brow from his wife had him saying, "I'll tell you about it later." He rose, giving his grandson a skeptical look. "For now, how about I help out with bath time?"

Suddenly, the boy didn't think a bath was such a bad idea. "Bath time!"

With a roll of her eyes, his wife turned toward the stairs. "Why do I get the feeling this is going to create a bigger mess than it cleans up?"

Jarrod laughed and turned to follow her, his eyes resting on the letter a last time before he pushed it, and the memories it brought up, out of his mind once more.