A Mother's Worry July 10, 1875 –Victoria Barkley
Mother always told me that there are children who come along who seem to draw trouble to themselves. Oh, I don't mean they're troublemakers themselves, just that accidents or injuries from another source seem to find them wherever you go. I had four children, Jarrod, Nicolas 'Nick', Audra and Eugene 'Gene'. They grew up and, yes, they had their share of troubles, but nothing like mother warned me about. I figured life had proved her wrong in my case. WRONG.
HEATH. Who's Heath? Did I really hear you ask that? He's my husband's son, the son in my heart if not my blood. I can't believe how many scars that man has on his back, how many times he's been shot, gotten a broken bone or fallen sick. What is it with him? Just last month he and I rode a train to Nevada to see some friends of ours. I won't go into a long-winded story, but we found ourselves being guided through an area that had renegade Indians in it. Our guide was killed and, yes, Heath was injured, AGAIN. I was afraid he might have found a grave in Nevada soil; I hated that.
Obviously, he made it and we're home, but I still wonder why. Why him? Why does he continue to get hurt time and time again? I don't know, my other children don't know, though Nick has threatened to smack him upside the head yet again. Threatened to do such a thing, why? Because that loud, hot tempered son of mine is scared. He won't admit it, but he's scared. He and Heath are close, closer than Nick originally wanted. It makes me shudder to think what it would do to Nick if Heath should die young.
Guess I'd best close for now. I wonder…would it do any good to hide Heath somewhere. Mmmm, guess not, life would only find the hiding place anyway.