Having his Back

1876

Chapter 1

Heading home at the end of a long day was nothing new to Heath, even if home being the Barkley mansion was relatively new, but heading there after a long day in town doing banking work and signing papers for Jarrod was. It seemed like there was just too much this time – too many papers, too many signatures, too much of Jarrod promising, "We're nearly through," and then there were more papers to sign.

"What's all this about?" he finally asked.

"Getting your name on all the proper accounts," Jarrod said. "Getting your will straightened out. Getting real property in your name. Remember, you're the one who wanted in on this."

"I didn't know we'd be using up a whole tree to take care of it," Heath said.

Jarrod laughed. "Now you know how my life goes."

"You're a braver man than I am," Heath said. And then, when he was finally done and got up to leave, he asked, "Are you heading home now too?"

"I wish I could," Jarrod said, "but I still have a couple hour's worth of work to finish up. Tell Mother to start dinner without me if I'm not there."

"Are you sure I've signed everything I need to sign?"

Jarrod smiled wearily and slapped him on the back. "You are officially part owner of the Barkley empire. You won't need to do any more signing for that until you're ready for the official adoption."

Heath was still nervous about that and had nixed it for now. It wasn't so much that it felt silly being adopted as an adult – which it did. It wasn't so much that it felt like a betrayal to his own mother – which it did. Maybe it was more like putting on paper a commitment he wasn't sure he was ready for – a commitment to change his name to Heath Barkley.

Jarrod understood Heath's unease, and Heath knew he understood it. "Don't worry about it," Jarrod said. "The ownership questions are now officially resolved, and as far as the rest of us are concerned, you are Heath Barkley, whether you use that name or not."

"I didn't sign the papers that way," Heath said.

"No, because I know you're not ready to legally be Heath Barkley yet. But your legal signature as of now is on all of these papers. You are part owner with the rest of us of all that Tom Barkley left us."

"I wonder how he'd feel about it," Heath mused, self-consciously.

Jarrod said, "I like to think I'm doing what he would have done. I'm the father figure around the place now. Maybe you haven't called me 'Pappy' yet, but that'll be sneaking out of your mouth before you know it." He saw the unease still resting in Heath's eyes. Jarrod put a hand on his younger brother's shoulder. "You're one of us, Heath, and he'd have acknowledged it, too. Not a doubt in my mind. And when you're ready for the paperwork to make your name official, too, I'll have it ready for you."

Heath had to smile a little. It was Jarrod who first acknowledged him as one of the family, Jarrod who had handed him that cigar at Sample's farm. In a way, that was all he needed to feel like a Barkley – so why was it so difficult to sign adoption papers?

And why did this little voice inside come out of his mouth and say out loud, "If I go through the official name change, am I gonna have to sign all these papers again?"

Jarrod inhaled as if to answer, but hesitated. "No. I'll cut down on the volume," he ended up saying with a reassuring smile and pat on the back for his newest brother.

Heath let everything go. This was what he wanted, after all – a heritage, a part of the Barkley name and empire. Things he knew he wanted and was willing to work for. Now he had them, officially.

And it was handy having a lawyer for a brother. He could do all these legal things and make sure Heath really was part of this Barkley empire, legally and for good. When it came to being sure Heath had what he was working for, Jarrod had his back. Heath said, "Thanks, Jarrod. I'll see you at home – whenever you get there."

Heath left Jarrod's office and left town. He was tired and didn't want to think about paper anymore, but he was astonished to get nearly all the way home on the Stockton road and find himself surrounded with – paper! Loose paper, all over the place, blowing in the wind, catching on rocks and trees and brush. Sheet after sheet after sheet of paper! What the heck? he thought. Did I fall asleep and this is some kind of nightmare?

He tethered his horse and started grabbing what he could before the wind took it away. Not that he knew where he was going to put it once he'd gathered it, but he just kept grabbing. He could straighten it out and see what it all said later. He ended up stuffing it into his shirt and before too long there was nothing left to stuff. He could only watch the remainder blow away in the wind.

He buttoned his shirt carefully, up to his neck, so that none of the paper he now wore like an undershirt could get away. He climbed back onto his horse and soon was home. Nick and the men were coming in from the field, and as he dismounted he got lots of double takes from the men who saw him, now looking overweight and lumpy. Nick gave him a triple take.

"Don't tell me. Jarrod made you take copies of everything you signed and you didn't have any place to put it except in your shirt," Nick said, trying not to laugh.

"No, actually, I found all this blowing around on the road just outside the ranch," Heath said, patting his lumpy soft stomach. "I grabbed what I could in case it was important."

Ciego took Heath's horse, laughing a little. It made Nick laugh more. "Well, come on in the house and let's see what you've got," Nick said.

They went in together, happening on their mother and sister in the foyer. The woman turned to welcome them home, but suddenly Victoria stopped and stared at lumpy Heath. "Oh, my goodness!" she said. "What is – " She ran out of words and pointed.

Audra was more blunt. "What have you stuffed your shirt with?"

"Paper," Heath said. "I found it blowing along the road. Somebody's lost it and I thought it might be important."

"Come on," Nick said, giving Heath a slap on the back. "Let's take this into the library and start sorting it out. Then we can clean up for dinner."

"Yeah, I don't want to get any of this wet," Heath said.

As soon as they left the foyer, Victoria and Audra looked at each other – and laughed.

In the library, Nick said, "Let's just put it all out on the pool table and see if we can get a start on it."

Heath unloaded his shirt, and Nick just grabbed pieces of paper and flattened them out, one by one, not reading them yet. When he was almost through with getting the paper from his shirt to the pool table, Heath stopped to read one of the sheets of paper. "Hey, Nick, look at this."

Heath handed the paper to Nick, and he read it, and he looked up at Heath. "Well, well," he said. "Did you see anybody out there where you found this stuff?"

"Not a soul," Heath said. "Why do you think anybody would ride off and leave this behind?"

"I don't know, unless they were in a hurry."

"You don't think anybody would get robbed for this, do you?"

"I don't know," Nick repeated. "Maybe more likely somebody robbed somebody and this got left blowing in the wind. Maybe Jarrod can figure this out when he gets home."

"He said he'd be late."

"He'll get here sooner or later. If somebody did get robbed, he might have heard something in town."

Heath finished unloading his shirt, and soon he and Nick had the papers all straightened flat but not in any order that made sense. It was clear there were still pieces of paper missing, but what they had was intriguing. A mystery. An important one? It was difficult to tell. But Nick put the papers in a pile as Heath buttoned his shirt back up, and on top of the pile he put the paper that had drawn Heath's attention. Then they both looked at the pile.

The paper on top held only one sentence – a title. "Personal Memoirs of Ulysses S. Grant."

XXXXXXXX

Jarrod took one look and said, "This has got to be a fake."

Everyone was looking at the paper on the table. Each one of them had thumbed through the papers, all handwritten and purporting to be what the title page said it was, the memoirs of President Grant.

"It makes sense that he'd be writing them at some time, though," Victoria said.

Jarrod looked highly skeptical. "Even if he were, what would they be doing on the road outside Stockton, California, blowing away in the wind? No, it's far more likely somebody was trying to peddle these and lost them."

"Even if they're fake, if somebody was trying to peddle them, why would the let them get away?" Heath asked.

"Maybe someone was after them and they didn't have time to retrieve these," Audra offered.

Jarrod nodded. "Maybe some kind of confidence man is around here and he attracted attention he didn't want and had to run away from. He lost these along the way. For now I suggest we just keep these as a curiosity and I'll talk to the sheriff about them in the morning. You said there were more papers out there blowing away, Heath?"

"Yeah," Heath said.

"Maybe somebody picked them up and they're just as baffled as we are."

"If somebody is trying to sell them as real," Nick mused, "I wonder who it is?"

"A stranger most likely," Victoria said. "I can't imagine anybody in Stockton would try to defraud his neighbors with something like this."

"Never underestimate anybody, Mother," Jarrod said. "But for now, why don't we just put these away and feed me?"

Jarrod had arrived home late, after everyone else had finished dinner. Victoria took him by the hand and led him to the kitchen, leaving the other three Barkleys behind. They each kept thumbing through the papers.

"Wouldn't it be fascinating if they were real?" Audra mused out loud.

"Yeah, it would be," Nick said.

Heath said, "But Jarrod's right. Why would they be out here in California blowing around on the Stockton road when the President lives back east? Things might be a lot more fascinating if they're fake."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "I think that's a better thought."