Corinth

Riding past the "Welcome to Corinth" sign, Heath noted the posted population with approval. That was a decent number for a town this size. He hated ghost towns—places that began with spirit and enthusiasm, but then faded as the life slowly drained away leaving practically no one in dry, rotting, empty buildings. Ghost towns always made him think of Strawberry and the conflicted emotions his good and bad memories brought up.

As Charger moved down the main street, Heath noted the businesses: saloon, general store, livery, dress shop, hotel, boarding house, post office, telegraph, assayer's office. There was another building that would hopefully ensure the town's continued success. It sat right on the edge of town...the train station. Seemed like so many places these days looked to the railroad as a lifeline. Heath shook his head. Talk about conflicted emotions...

Heath pulled his horse up to the hitching post in front of the building marked "Sheriff." He was supposed to meet Jarrod there. Heath had been up north checking out some new timber land the family was considering. Jarrod was coming from the east where he'd been assisting a couple of old friends of the Barkley family with some legal issues. Corinth had been a convenient place to meet up, and Jarrod had chosen the Sheriff's office. Heath didn't know why the saloon wouldn't have done the job just as easily, but Jarrod had decided and that was that.

As he walked into the small office, a young man stood up behind the desk. Heath guessed he was probably a year or two younger than himself, but looks could be deceiving. Could be he was just one of them fellows that looked young.

"Can I help you?"

Heath smiled. "I'm Heath Barkley. I'm supposed to meet my brother, Jarrod, here."

The deputy frowned briefly and did a quick glance around the room. "Haven't seen him," came the reply in an amused tone.

Heath glanced around the small office as well and grinned. "Yeah, I guess not. Either he's late or I'm early. Or both."

The deputy grinned. "Well, you're welcome to wait for him if you want."

Heath pushed his hat back and smiled. "I'd be obliged."

The deputy reached to shake hands. "Bert Dodson, chief deputy."

Heath bit his lip in amusement as he returned the handshake. "Chief deputy? How many deputies you got around here?"

Bert chuffed a laugh. "Now, you're not supposed to ask that."

Heath chuckled as well. "I figured. Sorry about that."

He started to sit down in the chair Bert indicated, but the door opened suddenly and in walked an older man wearing a badge. "Hey, Bert." He glanced at Heath. "What have we here?"

Bert came around the desk. "Sheriff Boggs, this is Mr. Barkley. He's supposed to meet his brother here."

Sheriff Boggs narrowed his eyes at Heath briefly as if to study him. "Well, I reckon that's all right, but I'd expect a young feller like you'd prefer meeting in the saloon."

Heath couldn't help but laugh a bit. "Yeah, that'd be right, but my brother made the choice, not me."

Boggs considered, "Why would he pick here?"

"Well, I didn't ask him straight out, but he's a lawyer. Maybe that has something to do with it."

"A lawyer, huh? He got business in this office?"

Heath shrugged. "He didn't mention it, but that don't mean he don't."

Boggs chewed on that for a bit as he studied Heath. "Your brother's a lawyer? I wouldn't expect a line rider like you to have a lawyer in the family."

"Well, I'd be the first to agree with you, but he is a lawyer, and as it happens, I'm not living job to job anymore." Heath didn't take issue with the line rider comment; he probably still looked like the drifter he'd been not too long ago. Most of the changes in his life were on the inside. Outside, he was still a cow puncher. The sheriff's comment was an easy mistake to make.

Boggs narrowed his eyes again. "You know, lawyers can be more trouble than they're worth."

Heath nodded agreeably. "I used to think the same thing, but he's not like that. He's got a real belief in justice—not just getting people off when they're guilty."

"Really? Well, what's his name? Maybe I've heard of him?"

"You might have. He's got a good reputation in these parts. It's Jarrod Barkley."

"Jarrod Barkley? Well, now, seems I have heard of him. Seen his name in the paper, and as it happens, I knew him as a boy. He's the son of an old friend of mine. Yeah, I knew Tom Barkley a long time ago. Did me a real good turn once upon a time. Real good turn."

Heath wasn't sure how to respond to that, so he just held his tongue and nodded.

Boggs continued, "Let's see, Tom had three young 'uns last I 'member. There was Jarrod, and another boy, and a girl, and maybe there was another one coming. Are you the second boy? Seems to me his name was...Ned or something like that."

Heath shook his head. "That's my brother, Nick. Then was my sister, Audra, and my youngest brother is Eugene."

The sheriff looked at Heath in speculation, "Well, where do you fit in there, boy?"

Heath glanced down. It had been a while since he'd run into anyone who was unaware of the events relating to his introduction to the family. "Well, I'm the one on the outside."

In response, Sheriff Boggs shifted in his chair, and Bert looked curious. Boggs spoke up, "Maybe you'd better explain yourself, boy."

Heath took a deep breath. "Victoria Barkley didn't bring me into the world."

The sheriff stared at Heath a moment then blinked. "What'd you say?"

"Tom Barkley wasn't married to my mother. I was born between Nick and Audra."

Sheriff Boggs shook his head. "You're lying. Ain't no way what you're saying is true. Ain't no way."

Heath took another deep breath. "Well, I can understand you not wanting to believe it, but it is true."

Boggs shook his head. "Nope, it ain't neither. And I don't appreciate you going around spreading these rumors. Slandering the name of a good man! A man that ain't here to defend himself now."

Heath worked to keep his temper. "It's only slander if it's not true."

The sheriff was adamant. "And it ain't true!"

"I'm afraid it is."

"It ain't! You're just a big fake, a...a...a...fraud! Going around claiming to be something you're not!"

Heath kept cool. "Sheriff, I am who I say I am."

The sheriff was livid, and his face was turning unusual colors. "No. You. Ain't! Now, you just hush, and I mean now! You're just a big fraud. Tom Barkley wasn't the kind of man who'd do that kind of thing, and I won't have you running him down! He was honorable! Many's the time I heard him talk of his wife, and he wouldn't have done such a low-down, no-account deed like you're suggesting."

Heath chewed the inside of his lip and counted to ten before responding. "Look, Sheriff, when Jarrod gets here, he can tell you himself and clear this whole thing up. I'm sorry I've got you upset."

The sheriff took a second to think then calmly replied, "Oh, my. Now, you've done it. Not only are you slandering a good man's name, committing fraud by claiming to be something you ain't, but you're also ex-hort—, ex-stork—, ex-horg—" He took a deep breath to redirect himself, "You're blackmailing that family!"

Heath's eyes popped open at the suggestion. "Sheriff, that's not—"

"And I ain't gonna let you do it no more. Bert, lock him up."

Heath blinked in surprise and looked at Bert who appeared just as shocked and spoke up. "But, Sheriff—"

"I didn't ask your opinion, Deputy. I done told you to lock him up. Now, do it!"