PART I – Leah May 1881

Chapter 1
The Girl from Haven

From a distance Haven looked like a typical western town. Two or three streets were lined with houses and shops necessary for the survival of not only its town's people but the surrounding ranches as well. Dust picked and swirled down the main street as Heath Barkley's horse prodded along. He squinted towards the heavens to calculate the time and then glanced around. A scrawny, yellow dog barked as he passed; a woman was sweeping off her stoop and paused for a second to regard him with a cautious, untrusting look; two boys were playing with marbles in a circle next to a corral that housed a few mangy horses. Somewhere to the east of town the clang of a blacksmith's shop rang out.

Next to the corral was a small livery. The structure was not well built, but it seemed to be holding up to some extent. Heath dismounted and scrutinized the safety of leaving his horse in the care of someone who seemed to have little regard for the state of his animals or his property. Glancing around though, he knew that this would be the only place he could leave his horse so he took a step inside, just as a small, wiry man popped out. His eyes were red-rimmed and glazy, and he smelled of whiskey. He was unshaved and his shirt was too big, his pants torn in several places. He could have used a bath as well.

"Are you the owner of this place?" Heath asked incredulously, motioning with a hand to the building.

"Me?" the man croaked as if he'd just sucked in too much air. "Me?" he said again. "Wha'd I want with a livery and taken care of all them horses?"

With that he scurried off as if someone had lit his pants on fire. Heath shrugged and ducked into the livery. He stood still a moment, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dimness of building. Everything inside the livery was neat. Along the walls that enveloped the entrance were brushes and combs, bridles and harnesses, boots and shovels and pitchforks neatly lined in a precise manner that indicated that the daily user was an organized person. The first horses he saw inside were also a surprise. They were well fed, neatly curried and combed and healthy looking.

Heath heard a scraping noise as if someone were cleaning out stalls and made his way down the alley towards the noise. "Howdy," he heard a voice call out from the dark corner of one of the stalls he'd passed.

"Howdy," he replied peeing into the dim lit area, but the person hefted a lantern and he could finally make out the features of the tall, broad shouldered man. "Are you the owner here?"

"Yep, I be Eb," the man spat into the other stall. "What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if I could stable my horse here for the night?"

"Sure can," and he stated the price. Heath nodded and pulled out the necessary amount.

"Can you recommend a hotel or boarding house?" Eb clicked his tongue and sighed.

"Can't necessarily recommend it, but the High Noon hotel's just up the street," he frowned. "I'd just stay clear of the Beardsley boys if I were you. Bunch of rascals." Heath nodded and was about to turn away. "By the way did you happen to run into a small fellow on your way in? About so high," he gestured about to the height of the tall man's chest.

"Yeah I did," Heath nodded. "He was headed out." Eb clicked his tongue again and shook his head.

"That O'Leary. It's a wonder he's survived all these years," Eb set his lantern back down and turned back to the stall. "Well thank you Mister."

Back out in the sunshine Heath looked around. He set off in the direction Eb had indicated and found the High Noon hotel. A tall man dressed in a dark jacket and britches was leaning against a post, whittling from a piece of wood. Heath was about to step up onto the first step when a girl's cry drew him up short. It came from inside and suddenly a figure darted through the door way and into the street.

She was a tall girl, with dark hair hanging loose down to her waist. She wore a grey, divided skirt and a blue-green blouse that seemed to set off her pale complexion. Her eyes were a thunderstorm of anger and embarrassment, however, as she turned to face a man who'd followed her out, but stopped on the front porch of the hotel. "Leave me alone Jasper!" she demanded.

"Aw come on now," he shrugged, spreading his arms out wide. "Why ya gotta run off from me all the time like that?"

"Leave 'er be Jas," the man whittling on the porch said.

"Aw, but Billy…" he weaved a little as he sank down onto the step. The yellow dog Heath had seen earlier came trotting up and sat down next to the girl. The dog eyed the two men on the porch and Heath suspiciously.

"Who you be?" the girl demanded suddenly, turning her attention towards him.

He stepped back to look at her and to keep the two other men in view. "I'm looking for a room."

She was about to say something, but whatever she was going to say was over ridden by Billy's blunt, "No vacancies." Heath glanced at the dark clad man. He had not once looked up from his whittling.

"If you need a room, Mister, I might can show you a place," the girl said before Heath had a chance to ask if they could recommend a place. Billy shifted and his eyes lifted to take in the girl and Heath. He grunted before returning his attention back to the wood.

Nodding Heath followed her and the dog took one last glance at the men and trotted along, running a little at first to catch up with the girl. "What's your name Mister?" she asked.

"Heath Barkley," he responded.

"Stockton Barkleys?"

"Yep."

"I'm Leah O'Leary," she replied.

"O'Leary?"

She paused a moment to study him, but then picked up her pace. She took him down a small alley between two buildings to a small open space that was surrounded by three different houses that opened up into the yard. Children and dogs scampered about the yard as she led him to one of the houses, probably the shabbiest of the three.

Pushing open the door, a sweet, spicy smell emitted through. Though shabby on the outside, the house was rather neat inside. The front room held a small cot pushed up into one corner and a single table with three mismatched chairs surrounding it and a small arm chair opposite it. In the middle of the room was a small, potbellied stove.

She passed through the room without stopping and walked right into a second room that was obviously a kitchen. A round woman was bending over the oven, pulling out the source of that sweet smell. An apple pie. Heath couldn't resist the urge to lick his lips. "Ya bringin' home more strays, child?" the woman said, not unfondly.

"He was looking for a place to stay," the girl returned, defensively. The woman smiled and nodded her head.

"Where you planning on putting O'Leary then?" she arched eye brow.

Leah frowned. She didn't answer, but motioned for Heath to follow her. "This be all right accommodations for you?" she opened up a door that was beyond a large cupboard. The room was small with a cot the same size as the one in the first room and a small chest of drawers. He nodded asking her the price and was surprised when she said a dollar. He gave her two.

After he'd set his things down he returned to the kitchen where Leah was grabbing up mismatched dishes and taking them into front room. The round woman was gone. He glanced around puzzled. "O'Leary might be home soon," she said. "But in case he's not we can go ahead and eat." She hesitated. "Mrs. Hart comes by once a day to fix our meals. I'm not that great a cook," she smiled. She set three bowls on the table, one of them with a large chip in the edge of it. She dug out three spoons, one of them bent that she had to straighten. "I'm sorry it's not the best as far as eating utensils goes."

"Its fine," Heath assured her. "I've ate with less before." She eyed him questioningly, but said nothing as she slipped into a chair, after having dished up to bowls of a delicious smelling stew.

The meal was eaten in companionable silence. He didn't feel like talking and she didn't seem to be either. He wondered about her, and this O'Leary fellow. He assumed he was her father, but she'd called him by his last name. It wasn't any of his business though, unless she chose to divulge the information.

Instead he decided to break the silence with a question. "Do you know how far the Platt Ranch is?"

"The Platts?" a light of eagerness shone in her green eyes. "They're about a half a day's ride from here. Are you going there?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Going to look over a couple of their horses."

She slid a piece of bread through the last bits of stew in her bowl, her lips pursed. "Would you mind if I rode along with you?" she asked finally. He looked at her. "I used to visit with Vivian Platt when she'd come to town."

"I guess not. I aim to ride out there and be back to town before night fall. Can you ride?" she nodded, her eagerness unmistakable now.

The next morning dawned bright and shiny and Leah had already packed up some cheese, bread and jerky. She strode along next to him as he went to the livery, her grey divided skirt swishing as she walked. Today she'd replaced her blue-green blouse for a rose colored one. The color became her almost as well as the one she'd worn the day before.

At the livery Eb nodded to Heath and wrinkled his nose when he noticed Leah standing beside him, a saddle bag draped over her shoulder. "O'Leary's in the back," he didn't exactly make the statement to her, but it obviously was. She nodded and disappeared. It must have taken her a bit to rouse the man and Heath wasn't sure he actually understood what she'd said to him.

"Can I rent a horse Eb?" Leah asked when O'Leary groaned back to sleep.

Eb swallowed, obviously uncomfortable with her for some reason Heath couldn't understand. "I've got enough," she held out several dollars to him. "And I'll do O'Leary's work for sleeping here." Eb sighed and took the money.

"Don't worry about O'Leary's rent," his tone was flat. Leah pursed her lips and rested one fist on her hip, but she said nothing as she quickly saddle a well-fed chestnut mare. Heath noticed that Eb was watching her as he raked out a stall further down. There was a disapproving glint in his eye.

Once they were in the saddle, Leah led the way out of town. She knew were the Platt Ranch was and Heath was more than happy to let her show him the way. As the town dwindled out of sight the grassy land surrounded them, occasionally broke up by stands of trees and an occasional stream.

They didn't talk much to one another as they rode along. The creak of the saddle, breeze through the grasses, occasional bird and each one's own thoughts were enough to keep them occupied. Every so often he noticed Leah steal a glance at him, but she didn't break the silence, so he didn't either. It was, he supposed, nice to have company on the trail.

About the time the sun was overhead they saw a distant dwelling. "There it is," Leah exclaimed smiling. He grinned back at her. She had seemed excited, but there was some element of restraint in her voice now. Almost as if she dreaded what lay ahead.

She was silent the rest of the way and they were immediately greeted by a hand who nodded to Heath after he introduced himself, but eyed Leah worriedly. Mr. Jonathon Platt was summoned from the house and greeted him warmly, but he stopped mid-stride when he noticed Leah. "What are you doing here?" he demanded, anger in his voice.

"I came to see Vivian, please sir," Leah responded with an inclining of her head.

"She doesn't want to associate with the likes of you," he said harshly. Heath glanced at Leah and was about to speak up when she shook her head.

"Can't I at least go see her?" there was a touch of pleading in her voice.

"You can," the man shrugged. "But she won't see you." He almost sneered. Leah swung off her horse and availed herself of the privilege he'd obviously given her. Platt stared after her still angered. Heath was beginning to wonder just exactly what kind of person Platt thought she was, and why it was…well, revolting to him.

He turned his attention back to Heath and began showing him the horses he had for sale. There was a lovely black stallion and two chestnuts, a buckskin and an appaloosa. They were all good stock, except for the appaloosa, but at least the man was honest that she was rather old and more or less ready for retirement.

Before he'd finished looking over the horses, Leah had come out the corral, alone. She stayed away from everyone else leaning against a tree, watching them work with the horses. Heath glanced at her a couple of times, as did Platt. After a while the man turned to him. "Do you know whose company you're riding with?" he asked.

"She said her name was Leah O'Leary."

The man snorted. "That's the name she goes by, but O'Leary isn't her father. She's a bastard child." Heath immediately tensed. So that's why every one was treating her that way. "Being a stranger I'm sure you were just ignorant of who she was and the company you were keeping."

"Well," Heath adjusted his hat. "She must be in good company then," he turned his head so that he could look Platt straight in the eye. "Cause I'm a bastard child too."

Platt's eyes widened and his mouth twitched. He opened his mouth, the closed it again. "I…" he began after a moment. "Well…" he took a deep breath, his eyes narrowing. "Did you see anything of interest among this stock?" His voice had gone stony.

Heath stared at the man for a moment, then looked back at the horses. "No," he shook his head. "Don't think I'm interested." He adjusted his hat and Platt sent one of his hands to saddle their horses.

Leah was still under the tree, the light breeze playing with a few loose strands of her hair that had escaped from the braid down her back. She looked up at him when he approached. "You about ready to head back to town?"

She blinked. "I…guess so," she stood up quickly and straightened her skirt.

"I'll be ready to leave in a couple of minutes if you want to say good bye," he turned away to keep her from being embarrassed or having to answer him. He wasn't sure of everything about her, but he understood enough. He glanced at the sky to fix in his mind the time.

They started out on the road, again in silence. Leah kept her distance and Heath could feel her glancing at him every so often. He just urged his horse along at the same ambling pace. There wasn't anything he could tell her that would change things.

They'd been going for about an hour when he stopped, and stood in the stirrups to see past a stand of trees. Puffy, dark clouds were gathering in the sky, piling up against one another. He bit his lip and turned to her. "How much further we got to town?"

"Probably about another couple of hours, at the least," she was staring at those clouds too.

"Is there anywhere to take shelter between here and there?"

She pursed her lips. "Well, there is a deserted cabin a mile off the main road. We still have about a half a mile to the trail though," she eyed him. "But we won't make it to town before it starts raining. We might not even make it to the cabin." She added.

"We'll make it," he nodded. "Let's go."

Heeling her horse she led the way and at the turn off ducked into the woods. The trail was over grown and in some places so dense they had to find another way through. Heath was beginning to wonder if they weren't lost, but she finally pointed out an old, dilapidated building.

"The last time I was here it was still in pretty good shape," she said. "But that's been about a year or so ago." Heath nodded as a large rain drop landed on his shoulder. He booted his horse to a trot and dismounted in front of the porch. Leah had already dismounted and was pulling her horse onto the porch and tying her reins to a post.

Ducking inside Heath blinked to adjust to the dimness of the small room. Leah was poking around in one corner where she pulled out a log. "Last time we were here we went ahead and found pieces of wood so the next time someone had to take shelter here they wouldn't have to start a fire with wet wood," she smiled. Heath returned it.

Suddenly though she threw the small log she held down on the ground and scuttled back, letting out a small yell. Heath hurried forward, but even in the dimness he could make out the eight legged creature. He chuckled softly. "It's just a spider."

"It's fine if it's just a spider, so long as it doesn't crawl on me," she shivered. Heath picked up the rest of the logs and began making a fire. By now the rain was drumming on the rooftop.

Leah unpacked the food she had brought in her saddle bags and they made a meal of half of it. The rain had still not let up and it was beginning to grow dark by the time they'd finished. Heath had dozed off and on during the afternoon, while Leah had sat with her knees drawn up against her chest, her chin resting on the top of her knees, staring into the firelight.

Licking what little cheese, jerky and bread flavor that might have been on her fingers off, Leah turned to him, one arm resting lazily on her knee. "You have to know about me by now," she said. It was the first thing she'd spoken since the spider. Heath stared at her.

"Yeah, I know," he shrugged.

"But you haven't treated me any different."

"Why should I?"

She was watching him with her green eyes shining. She chuckled. "Everybody else does. Just about. Only a handful of people ever treated me the same after learning about me as before. Mrs. Hart, O'Leary and Miss Cumberland and now you. I'd of thought the fancy Barkleys wouldn't take to much to an illegitimate born child." Her words were not bitter or condescending, just curious.

"I don't see where you could help how you were born," he replied simply.

She smiled suddenly. "That's what I always thought, Mr. Barkley."

He leaned back against the wall and tilted his hat forward. "It's Heath." He said, his voice muffled by the hat.

"What?" she replied.

"Call me Heath."

She hesitated. "All right Heath."

(To be continued…)